


The Sweetest Sounds

by Wintergrew



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ash is Cinderella, Canon Typical Abuse, Cinderella AU, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Happy Ending, Historical, M/M, Male Cinderella, Minor Character Death, POV Alternating, Prince Eiji, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 65,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16073117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintergrew/pseuds/Wintergrew
Summary: Somewhat of a Cinderella AU.(Note: Non-explicit references to canon-typical abuse, albeit in a different setting. Happy ending, of course.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Setting is your typical "Once upon a time..." fairytale setting. Loooosely 18th or 19th century.
> 
> I know "Ash" was a nickname his family called him, but for this story's purposes in this he went by his birth name "Aslan" at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I now have a Twitter! https://twitter.com/wintergrew

Adults always seem to love telling children fairytales. Generally parents, who  tell their children stories about all the potential wonders of the world. How a young maiden finds a handsome prince to come rescue her, giving her a life of love and luxury. How a young boy finds a magical object that forever changes his destiny, bringing him fame and fortune. Of the supernatural. Of things yet unseen by any living person. Of magic.

 

Aslan, of course, was not told such stories as a child by his parents. He never had a mother that tucked him in at night, reading him a story of a magical battle far away. His father never passively told him stories as he worked and Aslan sat on the floor by his feet playing with a wooden toy carved just for him. No, instead all of this was provided to him by his older brother.

 

“The one about the big plant!” he begged as his brother put him to bed at night. They shared room in their cozy cottage, so Griff was always there for him to tell him a good night story. Griff always told the  _ best _ stories. He had a large collection of books in their small den that Aslan would often catch him reading in his spare time. Stories were important, he’d say. He wanted his younger brother to have an open mind to the larger world, to believe in the magic of it all.

 

The bedroom they shared wasn’t very large, but it was comfortable. Despite Griffin being older and a full adult, the room was far more catered to his younger brother. Of course, he didn’t mind it that way at all. He loved his brother, and allowed it to be littered with his toys, his favorite storybooks, all the things that Griff felt would make him happy. Afterall, he was the de facto father figure for him.

 

Their actual father owned their village’s only tavern. Being that, it was quite successful, allowing them to have finer things for their seaside village. Unlike many others who struggled with their fishing businesses, they were able to afford mattresses stuffed entirely of feather and cotton, or intricately woven wool blankets. Aslan was marginally better dressed than any of the other kids his age in his vicinity. He had more toys, better meals. His father was perfectly content with providing these things for his young son, but never his affection. As Griffin was more or less left to raise his younger brother, their father worked away at his business, never seeming to care about anything else. Aslan longed to be closer to his father, but still, he was happy.

 

“You want me to tell you about Jack and the Beanstalk?” Griff laughed, “Haven’t I told you that one a million times already?”

 

“But I like it!” the young boy pouted, crossing his arms dramatically.

 

His brother continued laughing as he sat beside him on his bed. “How about a story about a prince and princess?”

 

“That sounds  _ boring _ !” he whined, scrunching up his face.

 

“ _ Boring _ ?” Griff raised an eyebrow jokingly, “You think any story of mine would be  _ boring _ ?”

 

Aslan’s face fell. He didn’t want to offend his brother. He would argue with him just as any other brother would, but he didn’t like getting into fights with him. He was all he truly had, after all. 

 

“N-No,” he finally let out.

 

“I didn’t think so,” Griff chuckled, as he pulled the covers over his little brother, “Hmm, I know a good one. It’s about a brave prince, a princess, and an evil witch.”

 

...

 

“Are princes always good?” Aslan asked the next morning. It was a beautiful, albeit somewhat chilly day near the seashore, with the wind lightly spraying the ocean into Aslan’s face and onto his brand new navy blue coat. He had to be careful, his brother chopping away at some wood for the tavern and warned him about flying wood chips or, even worse, a wrong swing of his axe. Still, he sat as close to his older brother as he could, feet splashing away idly in the ocean. He wished Griff would play with him instead of chopping wood, but he understood that he was a busy grown up. He went out of his way to chop wood here, so Aslan could enjoy himself as he worked.

 

“Why do you ask?” Griff asked, as he set the axe down for a moment. The thump of the ax caused several nearby seagulls to fly away, crying out as they flew.

 

“In that story last night, the prince rescued the princess,” Aslan explained as the calm sea breeze blowed his light blond hair around his face. He irritatedly brushed his bangs out of his green eyes.

 

“Yes?”

 

“But how’d she know that the prince was a good guy?” Aslan raised his head towards his brother, “How’d she know he wasn’t just as evil as the witch who imprisoned her for so long?”

 

Griff was taken aback and let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “You’ve always been awfully astoot for your age, you know. To the extent that sometimes I worry.”

 

“Well?” he tilted his head as he burrowed his feet deeper into the sand.

 

“Hmm,” Griff walked over and bent down, “Yes, I like to think princes are good. They have a big responsibility, and I like to think that such responsibilities only go to good people. But also, I like to think she could tell immediately it was true love.”

 

“True love? Like magic?” Aslan’s eyes grew wide.

 

“Something like that,” he smiled.

 

“Is magic  _ actually _ real?” Aslan raised an eyebrow skeptically.

 

“I like to think so.”

 

…

 

“Why doesn’t Daddy eat with us?” Aslan asked as he ate in his father’s home.

 

Their wooden dinner table was dimly lit by the fireplace behind it, fueled by wood chopped by Griff earlier. The warm glow lightened all various types of food they had for their spring holiday dinner. A turkey, ham, potatoes, gravy, carrots, peas, and even pumpkin pie for desert. It was a dinner most commoners would dream of having. Yet for Aslan, it was still lacking.

 

“He’s just tired,” his step-mother Jennifer attempted a weak smile at him.

 

“He’s  _ always  _ tired,” Aslan poked at his potatoes with his fork grumpily.

 

“We had quite a rush of people today for the holiday,” she offered. Jennifer was a very nice lady, the closest thing to a mother Aslan would ever get. Still, she had far more devotion to her husband, his father, than she did to Aslan or Griffin. Ordinarily, it was just the two of them left alone without her at all for meals, though she did always try to come over to their cottage or invite them over to their own place for special occasions. Unlike his father.

 

“Why aren’t you tired?” Aslan looked at her with serious, implicating eyes that glowed from the firelight.

 

“That’s enough,” Griff nudged him gently, “We have the three of us here for a nice dinner. Let’s focus on that, alright?”

 

Aslan frowned, looking towards his half-eaten plate of food. With a sigh, he continued eating.

 

Still, there was tension thick enough to cut with a knife as the three ate silently, only the clinking of silverware and the cracking of the fire making any noise. Jennifer gave a fake smile as she reached for the pie in the center.

 

“Dessert, Aslan?” she asked with a smile, “I just baked this pumpkin pie this morning.”

 

“I hate pumpkins.”

 

“Oh?” she asked, a little off guard, “Well, maybe you’ll like--”

 

“I  _ hate _ pumpkins,” he repeated, slightly more demanding and irritated.

 

“You don’t wanna argue that with him,” Griff laughed, “He really does. Pumpkins a touchy issue with him.”

 

“Oh?” Jennifer smiled again, more genuinely this time. 

 

Aslan’s face turned bright red, “Griff  _ don’t-- _ ”

 

“Oh c’mon, it’s a cute story,” he winked at his little brother.

 

“Ooh, I definitely want to hear it now,” she put her hands on her chin engagingly with a genuine warm smile.

 

“ _ Griff _ ,” Aslan whined, “Don’t tell her! It’s not a cute story at all!”

 

“Sure it is,” he laughed, “Or do  _ you _ want to tell her about how you thought the pumpkin came to life?”

 

“Came to life?” Jennifer asked, somewhat surprised yet amused, as she leaned her elbows on the table.

 

“No!” the young boy covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut defiantly, “No, no, no!!!”

 

“Yes!” Griff’s laughter became more enthusiastic, “He came running all the way down to the seaside to warn me about how a pumpkin started having a mind of its own. He said it started moving all about all on it’s own.”

 

“That’s not how it went!” Aslan pouted loudly, “I didn’t say it had a  _ mind _ , I just said that it was moving on its own! Because it _ was _ !”

 

“I told you, it was probably just the wind blowing it over,” Griff told him before turning to Jennifer, “Because as it was, of course, everything in the garden was completely normal. No moving pumpkins.”

 

Jennifer laughed in her innocently feminine way, tears of laughter collecting in her eyes. Aslan simply let out an annoyed  _ hmfh _ as he angrily ate a carrot. He didn’t get why his brother liked embarrassing him and why everyone always went along with it. Adults were so confusing sometimes. Aslan knew what he saw. He  _ knew  _ that pumpkin was sitting on a vine one minute, and the next became attached and started rolling about, growing. He  _ knew _ it was coming towards him. It bounced around like one of his little rubber balls, yet didn’t break like a pumpkin should. As it grew and grew, he knew that by the time it reached him, it could easily trample him. He figured his brother would help him. His brother always spoke of magic and curses, so surely he would help him with this supernatural event. But his brother had merely laughed at him, finding it the funniest thing in the world. Maybe it wasn’t actually magic, Aslan figured. Still, he realized it wasn’t normal. He never trusted pumpkins since. Not in the garden, not in his food.

 

“We’re really going to miss having you around here, Griffin,” Jennifer finally said, breaking his train of thought. She spoke in a much more somber tone than that of the lighthearted, (yet embarrassing,) conversation she had just partaken in.

 

Aslan sunk deeper into his chair.  _ This _ talk. He would have rather her go on about the stupid pumpkin.

 

“Hopefully it won’t be for long,” Griff responded, trying to sound positive. Yet even as a young child, Aslan could see right through it. He bit the inside of his mouth nearly hard enough to break skin.

 

“Yes, well...You should know everyone here will be wishing you the best. You’re a great man for risking your life to protect our kingdom.”   
  


“Stop!” Aslan cried out. He realized that his hands were shaking. He couldn’t handle this sort of talk. It made his stomach feel sick, like he had some sort of illness. His chest hurt, like he had run too fast for too long. He hated it.

 

“You’re right,” Jennifer patted him lightly, “This is a holiday. A happy day. Let’s not think about this right now.” But it was too late. He was already thinking about it. 

 

…

 

“Why are you going away?” Aslan brought himself the courage to finally ask his brother a couple days later at their own table. It was a stormy day, leading them to both spend the day indoors. Although he loved playing outside, he liked that this weather meant his brother would stay with him all day. It also meant he could have grown up conversations with him.

 

“I’m only going for a little while. You’ll hardly even know I was gone,” Griff ruffled Aslan’s blond hair as he placed a fresh plate of eggs before him.

 

“I asked  _ why _ ,” he grumbled into his eggs, stabbing one of them with a fork a little too harshly.

 

Griff sighed as he placed his own plate down beside his brother and took a seat. “You see, right now, the kingdom is in trouble. The King is relying on me to help protect everyone.”

 

“All on your own?” Aslan asked, wide-eyed. He didn’t doubt his brother’s abilities, but that seemed like an awfully large task.

 

Griff laughed, “No, of course not. There is a bunch of us that are working together to make sure all the little boys and girls of the kingdom are safe. It’s called a ‘military’.”

 

“Military,” Aslan repeated through a full mouth of eggs, accidentally spitting a little out.

 

“Yes, that’s right,” Griff smiled, “You remember our stories about the knights who saved all the innocent people? Like that!”

 

Aslan’s eyes grew bigger in fear, “But the knights were always in danger! In your stories they almost got killed!”

 

“But they always won, didn’t they?” he playfully punched his brother’s shoulder, “That’s how it always works, right? The knight always saves the day. Good always triumphs over evil. I’m going to protect the entire kingdom and then come home to you. I’ll have all sorts of stories to tell you, and this time they’ll be real!”

 

Aslan hadn’t noticed that his vision was getting cloudy with tears. “I-I don’t want new stories,” he stuttered, “I don’t want you to save  _ other  _ boys and girls. I want you to stay here and take care of  _ me _ .”

 

Noticing his tears, Griff quickly reached over and wiped them away with a soft cloth napkin, allowing his younger brother to cry into it. Instead, Aslan found himself collapsing into his brother’s embrace, sobbing into his rough cotton shirt.

 

“Don’t cry,” Griff told him, lightly patting his back, “One day you’ll be a hero too, right? You gotta stay strong.”

 

“But I don’t wanna,” he sobbed, his voice muffled by his brother’s chest, “Not if it means you don’t get to stay here with me.”

 

Griff gently pulled him away to look him directly in the eyes. “Well, Aslan Callenreese, the thing is is that you got to. You see, as your older brother, I’m declaring you...I’m declaring you the knight--no,  _ prince  _ of this family. As such,  _ you  _ have to protect everyone and make sure everyone here is safe. Okay?”

 

“The prince?” Aslan sniffed as he wiped his eyes with his little fists.

 

“Yes, you are the good prince of this land,” he said in a playfully stern voice, “And I am your noble knight, who must go off and protect us all. While I fight valiantly in faraway lands, you must make sure everything is run properly here.”

 

“But why can’t you do that here?”

 

“Silly, don’t you know that a prince can’t have all of his knights stay in the kingdom all the time? They have to go out on missions. When I leave here, it will be for you, for our kingdom.  _ Everything  _ for you, my prince.”

 

It still didn’t make Aslan feel as better as his brother hoped. Truth be told, he’d still rather it just be Aslan and Griff the commoners, rather  than a prince and knight. Still, if his brother  _ had _ to go, he would be sure to keep up the important princely duties bestowed upon him.

 

As it turned out, it really didn’t at all stop him from trying to chase his brother down the road when his day finally came to leave.

 

Jennifer had to hold him back. He sobbed and sobbed, trying his best to break free to run after his brother. Yet she was stronger than him, and despite all his efforts, he could not break away.

 

“It’s fine, my little prince,” Griff had told him just as he left, “I’m simply going on a mission on behalf of our kingdom. I will come back and report to you at once. But you have to stay strong.”

 

The tears had clouded the young boy’s vision so much that he could hardly see when his silhouette finally disappeared beyond the edge of the road.

 

…

 

“We can’t just keep him alone in the cottage by himself, Jim,” Jennifer whispered. Yet, as it was, far louder than was intended. Aslan could hear her clear as day from the other room as he sat in the den of his father’s house.

 

“Why not?” his father scoffed, “He seemed perfectly happy there.”

 

“With  _ Griff _ ,” she argued, “He can’t live alone, he’s only a child!”

 

“Well, we don’t have room for him here, do we?”

 

“Why do you say such things about your own son like that?” she asked in a very worried, yet innocent voice, “He’s a child.  _ Your _ child.”

 

“Fine,” he relented, “Bring him over here for meals. Look after him. But every night I want you to tuck him into bed in his own home. We don’t have room for him here.”

 

Jennifer sighed. “Alright.”

 

There were a few more words exchanged in an even softer tone that Aslan couldn’t make out. Still, moments later she appeared in the room where was left Aslan sitting on the floor. His face was still puffy and pink from all his crying, but this  current topic didn't make him cry. It only made him feel cold.

 

“So,” Jennifer bent down to his level with a forced, yet friendly smile, “Now that Griff is gone, a few changes are going to be made.”

 

Aslan merely looked away from her and towards the floor somberly.

 

“Well,” she tried to continue, “The good news is, you get to keep your great big room you shared with your brother. That won’t change at all. However, now you get to eat your meals with your father and I. Which was just what you wanted, right?”

 

He shrugged.

 

“Also, Aslan, since he is no longer here to take care of you, I want you to come to me for anything you need, alright?”

 

“I guess,” he said, still without looking up at her.

 

“Well,” she pondered, trying her best to emotionally reach the young boy, “Didn’t I hear Griff say that you’re the prince?”

 

Aslan looked up. “Yeah,” he let out softly.

 

“That means I’m your faithful subject,” she smiled widely, “I must take care of my handsome prince. But that means you must absolutely come to me whenever you need something, alright?”

 

“Alright,” he managed to answer. 

  
He didn’t know very much about being a prince or even if he  _ really _ wanted to be one. Still, he had to try his best, no matter how hard. For Griff.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've been quite busy and have had writer's block for this. I sure looped "Aslan" and "Blue Bird" from the OST a lot while writing this.
> 
> Minor character death warning. Don't worry, Ash won't die in this story.

As she said she would, Jennifer put Aslan to bed every evening and then every morning came to wake him up for breakfast. She would would pull out his clothes tucked away in his elegantly painted trunk he was told once belonged to his mother. She would help him take off his sleep shirt and dress him in his clothes for the day. With her own silver plated brush, she would brush his fluffy blond hair. He appreciated how she was more gentle with his hair than his brother ever would be, but on the other hand Jennifer could cared far more about his appearance than Griff ever did. Unlike Griff, she made sure his bangs were slicked out of his face, that his buttons were done properly, and that his collar remained straight.

 

It was annoying to the little boy, who preferred Griff’s quick methods where he could finish quickly and immediately go and play. Jennifer argued that a little prince like him needed to maintain good appearances. Being a prince was beginning to annoy Aslan more and more.

 

She took his hand and led him down the stairs of his cozy cottage, out the door, and through the field to her own house. It was only a two or so minute walk through a grassy field and small garden to their house. It was a walk he had done thousands of times, but no one ever let him take it alone.

 

The structure of Jennifer and his father’s house itself was larger than Griff’s and his cottage, but only because it was shared with their business. The tavern was in the front with a loft to house patrons, while the back was his father’s and Jennifer’s own quaint living quarters.

 

The tavern was open for breakfast, which meant Aslan was expected to eat it amongst the patrons. He sat up at the bar between two much older, burly men, his chin barely rising above it. Jennifer laughed and brought him a thick book to sit on. Still, he was much too low for his comfort.

 

His father was there too, of course. He didn’t speak to him, only briefly nodding towards his son before immediately turning to pour a drink for a customer. Aslan looked away from him immediately.

 

“Here you go,” Jennifer plopped down a plate of pancakes, still steaming from the griddle. Aslan never really had pancakes that often, even though he loved them. Griff wasn’t a very good cook, often just settling with eggs, gruel, or bread for breakfast. The one time he tried to make pancakes they just became stains on the griddle. He was disappointed, but they both ended up laughing at the failure as Griff gave him some bread and fruit.

 

Dwelling on this, Aslan took a bite of Jennifer’s pancakes. They were delicious, of course.

 

“Jim, who's the kid?” asked the man next to him. He was a tall, hairy man whose presence intimidated the young child, though his tone was kind enough.

 

“Mine,” his father replied emotionlessly without looking up.

 

“I didn’t know you had a second son. Where have you been hiding him all this time?” he laughed before turning to Aslan, “What’s your name, kid?”

 

“Aslan,” he said quietly, putting his fork down, trying to hide how much the statement hurt him. Of course his father wouldn’t speak of him. He rarely spoke  _ to _ him.

 

He would have rather had Griff’s eggs right now. Even if they were almost always too bland.

 

“You’ve barely touched your food. Aren’t you going to eat up?” Jennifer asked him as she came back over from the kitchen to serve another patron.

 

“I’m not hungry,” he said into his plate.

 

\---

 

“You’re in my way,” were the first words his father spoke directly to him in days.

 

Aslan sat on the floor of the tavern playing with a wooden spoon Jennifer had allowed him to play with. He had forgotten to bring one of his toys from his cottage that morning and as they were busy, she didn’t have the time to let him go back and pick one up. He tried his best to stay away from foot traffic. Enough to the side that made patrons not want to talk to him that much so he could idley play away, unbothered. Often, this led him to sit under the bar, where he could hoped he could remain completely unseen.

 

That is, until his father accidentally kicked walking by.

 

“I’m sorry,” Aslan said, scooting over a little. He knew it was an accident--he didn’t kick him on purpose. His father was the type to ignore him, not lash out. Still, he wondered if it would leave a bruise on his side. Of course, he wouldn’t apologize. He would only blame Aslan for being in the way. 

 

“Jennifer, this isn’t going to work,” he grouched to his wife, serving lunch to a young couple at  table to the other side.

 

“Aslan,” she smiled weakly as she walked over and leaned over the bar to look at him, “Can you move over a little to--”

 

“No,” his father interrupted, “We’ve been trying this out for ove a week now and he’s driving me insane. He can’t play in here. He’s disturbing the customers and he’s disturbing  _ me _ .” Ash set the wooden spoon on the ground besides him. It wasn’t that interesting of a toy, anyway. “Have him play in our den. The tavern’s no place for kids, anyway.”

 

Jennifer frowned. “I don’t know how good it is for a kid his age to sit alone all d--”

 

“It’s not like he’s not in the same building,” he retorted.

 

Jennifer sighed, wiping her hands on her apron. “Come on Aslan,” she said, bending over and reaching out her arms so she could pick him up off the floor. She had a smile, but it was pained. She had that smile a lot recently, and it always unsettled him. Aslan simply placed the spoon in his pocket and stood up, dodging her reaching arms completely. Her fake smile didn’t waiver as she lightly grabbed his hand and guided him to the back of the building.

 

“When will Griff come back?” he asked emotionlessly as he stared at the ground.

 

“I don’t know,” she responded somberly, “Hopefully soon.”

 

“Why does Daddy hate me?”

 

“Aslan, you mustn’t say things like that,” she touched his shoulder gently, her tone more sad than scolding. As if sensing in the air an inevitable uncomfortable conversation she wouldn’t want to address, she went back towards the tavern with the same pained smile and a nod, telling him to call her if there was an emergency. Aslan plopped himself on the floor. He pulled the spoon out of his pocket. He couldn’t think of any interesting way to play with it anymore.

 

Griff had told him he was the prince of this house. Jennifer had reinforced this. He certainly didn’t  _ feel _ like a prince. Princes always had loyal subjects to play with. They weren’t left alone in a den by themselves all day. They were loved.

 

Now, he knew Griff loved him, even if he did leave him. He figured Jennifer cared about him enough. Maybe not  _ love _ him, but she certainly pitied him if anything. She took care for him and looked out for him but despite her fake smiles, she did not have the motherly affection towards him that he so often heard about in Griff’s stories. She would also choose her husband over him any day.

 

He sighed. He wanted so badly for Griff to come home. It made his heart ache in a way he didn’t know it could.

 

As the sun went down, Jennifer eventually came in to tell him that she had a dinner plate waiting for him on a free table. He could eat at the tavern, she said. He could sit with all the other customers. Afterwards he would have to leave, and she would take him back to his cottage for bed as usual.

 

“Can you just bring my plate in here?” he asked.

 

\---

 

It took many days of convincing, but finally Aslan managed to convince Jennifer to let him stay in his cottage during the day. He was alone all day anyway, why not let him stay where all his toys were? Anyway, he  _ liked  _ staying in his room--ironically, it made it easier for him to pretend that he wasn’t alone. Griff could be downstairs working. Maybe he was silently making breakfast. Maybe he was just watering the flower pots directly outside.

 

He sat on his bed with his wooden toys surrounding him. It was still late in the morning, the yellow glow of sunlight coming through his slightly ajar window. He knew it was probably a beautiful day to play outside. He could be running through their garden, admiring all the springtime flowers. He could be down by the sea, building a sand castle, collecting shells, splashing in the water. He could be sitting in the grass, just enjoying the sun and the breeze.

 

Even if he was permitted to do those things, he wasn’t in the mood. 

 

He didn’t really touch his toys, either. He couldn’t think of any grand story to act out with them. Instead, they circled him on his bed, his legs still under the covers. Each toy was laid out on top of the blanket--his wooden boat painted blue and red, the little horse that remained unpainted, the flattened dog, the little duck. They way they were perfectly positioned around him it was as if they were protecting him somehow. He wasn’t sure why or how.

 

His plate of food, on the other hand, remained untouched on the wooden dresser beside his bed. A fly landed on it.

 

“Aslan!” a voice called from downstairs. Jennifer. He didn’t answer. She called him once more. He continued to wordlessly stare blankly to the other side of the room. Eventually, she made her way up the stairs.

 

“Aslan,” her face fell as she finally reached him at the top of the stairs, “I brought you your lunch early, but I see you haven’t touched your breakfast at all. Have you even moved at all?” 

 

He merely shrugged.

 

“C’mon,” she tried to smile, “Don’t you know that princes have to eat all their meals to become big and strong?” He lifted up his head. He knew she was right. Wordlessly, he began to take the plate from her, but she cut him off. “No no, my little prince, you should be eating in your grand dining room. Now let’s go downstairs, shall we?” He frowned, but obliged, shifting away his blanket and following her down the stairs.

 

Of course, she had to go back to the tavern immediately, leaving him to his royal meal by himself. Aslan wondered if most princes ate alone in their palace. He figured they generally didn’t.

 

…

 

As months went by, as spring fell into a long, hot summer, Aslan got his first word from his brother. It was actually in the form of three different letters, all dated differently but struggling to find their way to him through the large, wartorn kingdom. Jennifer offered to read them to him, but there was no need. Griff had taught him at a very young age.

 

“Why don’t you read all those books you have at your cottage then?” she asked him, “You love them, don’t you?”

 

“They are for Griffin to read,” he simply responded with a shrug. Hearing the words in his head through his own mind and not through the words of his big brother would feel wrong.

 

The letters were all neatly written on small, ripped pieces of paper crumpled in a way that told him they had gone through a treacherous journey. The ink of the words were splotched and faded in some places, but still neatly written in Griff’s recognizable handwriting. 

 

_ My Prince, _

 

_ I am making great strides in defending our kingdom from all that wish to harm it, gaining many close allies along the way. They are all amazed to hear the story of the young prince far away by the seaside, and wish to meet you someday. I think about you every day, and how I am doing this all for you, for your safety. I hope you are doing well and adjusting to life without me while on your best behavior. I will come home as soon as I can.  _

 

_ Your valiant knight, _

_ Griff _

 

It was a short letter, yet barely fit on the torn off piece of paper. Yet it was enough for him. Aslan smiled. It was the most genuine smile he felt since Griff had left him. 

 

_ Dear Prince Aslan, _

 

_ I am writing this a while before your birthday in hopes that it may reach you before then. Happy sixth birthday. Although I can’t come home, I hope you know that I will be wishing you the biggest birthday wishes from far away. I hope your kingdom gives you the most befitting celebration possible worthy for a prince. _

 

_ Your brother, _

_ Griffin _

 

In this particular letter was a pressed flower. Probably from his travels, and probably all he could manage to send him. Still, he treasured it. Afterall, it was the only present he got for his birthday. When it came by last month, Jennifer and his father had completely forgotten it.

 

_ Aslan, _

 

_ I hope my letters have been getting to you. Are you eating well? I apologize for not writing you sooner, but as I go deeper into battle paper and postage has become harder to come by. But don’t think that this doesn’t mean I’m not still thinking about you regularly and excited for the day I can come home to you and tell you about all my grand adventures. Just wait a little while longer, my prince. _

 

_ Griff _

 

Aslan held the letters and the small flower close to his chest. A smile growing on his face, he quickly ran up the stairs and tucked them away in his pillowcase. He then scrounged around their shared room for any paper or pen that Griff had left behind.

 

_ “Griff,”  _ He wrote in messy, childlike handwriting. His smile faded. He wasn’t remotely sure what he should write.

 

_ “Im fine. I eat tavern food. It is good. Jenifer gives me it.”  _ He figured it was better for Griff to not worry about him. Worrying would only distract him from his quest. Still, there was an ache in his chest he just couldn’t ignore.

 

_ “I miss you. Im sad youre not here. Please come home.” _

 

He knew he should write more, but his mind was blank. He decided that was enough, and messily signed his name. Slowly, he folded the mostly blank piece of paper as well as some other blank pieces of paper he figured Griff could use to write him back and ran down to give it to Jennifer. She had a little bit of surprise on her face, but she smiled, letting him know that she would send it off as soon as possible.

 

Times were still hard, (he often heard his father grumbling on about how the war was affecting business,) but getting letters on occasion from Griff made everything better. It was the excitement of ten Christmases all wrapped up in one. It reminded him that his brother was out there, thinking of him. He would return once more, and everything would go back to normal.

 

The heat of late summer was driving Aslan insane. He would often sneak away from his cottage and run to the seaside to cool off. He knew if he was caught he would be in grave trouble, so he always went early enough so that he could dry off before he would be checked on. He knew Griff wouldn’t approve, but he still wrote about it in his letters anyway. He was a big kid now, it was time for him to make his own decisions.

 

When autumn finally came, it was more apparent than ever that war affected everything. Young Aslan barely knew anything about it, only that his brother was a part of it to protect the kingdom from very bad people. He figured it was something far away, unable to reach him and his seaside village.

 

Most frightening to hear was that  during the war, a lot of the kingdom’s farmlands were destroyed. It meant prices to get food to the tavern hiked significantly, making it harder for them to stay afloat. The war also meant people were less likely to want to take a holiday to the seaside. He would often hear his father mumbling to himself with a glass of liquor, Jennifer lightly putting a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. It worried Ash, but he knew everything would be okay. Griff said things would be so in every letter. He waited as patiently as he could for every letter, for that reassurance. 

 

Even in the thick snow that came that winter, he would see the postal man coming down the road and would run outside without even fully buttoning his winter coat. He would get a disapproving scolding from Jennifer, but he didn’t care.  All the scoldings in the world were worth getting letters from his brother as quickly as possible.

 

The best was when his brother would directly respond to a letter he sent. It meant that not only was he hearing from Griff, but that Griff was hearing from him as well. It was as if a long conversation over the span of weeks and months was occuring, a funny concept to the small child.

 

It made him want to play again. Before, he only felt lonely doing things on his own. Yet now, if he were to build a snowman, he could write all about it to his brother. When the snow would melt into spring, he would be able to tell him about the largest puddles he splashed in. He could tell him about the stories he came up with between his wooden duck and wooden dog. He had a reason to get out of bed and live, even if the painful loneliness still made his chest hurt.

 

He also realized it was far better motivation than pretending to be some prince.

 

Sure, he still liked to pretend that he was a prince. Yet, at that point he fully acknowledged that it was simply that--pretend.

 

As winter got even colder, Jennifer fell ill. She insisted she was fine, but after a few days she said she was going to rest in order to gain her strength, taking a few days off from the tavern. Aslan had been sick in bed several times over the course of the year, so he didn’t think much of it besides how it meant she wouldn’t check on him as much. If anything, it meant he had more time to run free.

 

Having to work on his own meant that his father was far more busy. A few times he would sternly come and wake him up of a morning, telling him to dress and wash himself. After awhile, he grumbled that he was old enough now to come down on his own. Aslan didn’t mind. His father still would make him a plate for each meal and would also ask him to deliver one to Jennifer.

 

After a day or so, Jennifer asked Aslan to eat with her in her bedroom. He had gotten so used to eating on his own that it was a nice change. Jennifer still looked on him with soft, pitiable smile and would hold back his increasingly shaggy hair with a pale hand as he ate.

 

“Remind me when I feel better to cut your hair,” she smiled at him weakly. He shrugged. He didn’t care either way about his hair.

 

After about a week or so, she wasn’t completely healed, but she insisted that she was better enough to work. She had never been a strong person, but Aslan could tell that she was weaker and clearly lost weight. Still, if she was getting better that was a good sign. She didn’t have to push herself, at least. It was an extremely rough winter, leading few people to try and traverse out to the tavern. His father grumbled, and the already weak Jennifer only looked more downtrodden. 

 

A few nights the snow was so thick that neither Jennifer nor his father came to pick him up from his cottage. It was lonely, but something about the unsettling feeling of isolation almost comforted him. When the storm let up a little, his father eventually came, emotionlessly ordering him to gather up enough of his things for a few days. The storm was only supposed to get worse, and so he had to stay at his father’s house. Aslan would rather be stuck in his cottage alone, but he didn’t argue, quietly grabbing a few sets of clothing and two toys he could fit in his arms--his wooden horse and wooden duck.

 

“Come on, the storm is just going to get worse,” his father called out sternly. He had rummaged through the cottage kitchen to gather a few food items to bring back, but was now impatient for his son to follow. Aslan put on his heavy winter coat, held his clothes and toys tightly to his chest, and followed him.

 

As the door opened and the two went outside, the cold blizzard immediately burned Ash’s face, making him squeeze his eyes shut. It was hard for him to believe that this was the “lighter” part of the storm. His father kept walking on, not waiting for his son to catch up against the strong breeze. Careful not to drop anything, he fought the gusts of snow and continued on.

 

When they reached it, the blazing wind made it difficult for his father to open the door to his house, but he finally managed. He yelled at Aslan to hurry inside, as the snow and cold breeze blew into the house. Aslan ducked his head and embraced the warmth of the indoors. Sure, it was still cold even with the fireplace, but it was far better than the frigidness of the storm.

 

“Aslan,” he heard a weak and hoarse voice call out to him as he entered. He was surprised to see Jennifer sitting at the chair in the lounge. She was covered in blankets, weakly clutching a steaming cup of something. What mainly shocked Aslan, however, was just how weak and pale she looked.

 

“I thought you were getting better,” was all he could bring himself to say.

 

“I’ll be fine,” she smiled weakly and unconvincingly, “I made up some hot chocolate for us for the storm. Wouldn’t you like some?” She slowly placed aside her own cup and began to get up. Her legs stumbled like a baby deer.

 

“Don’t get up,” his father rushed over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll get it for him. You need to rest.” As his father went towards the tavern kitchen, Aslan was struck by the softness in his father’s voice towards Jennifer. It was a tone he never once used towards Griff or him. It was a tone he didn’t know he was physically capable of.

 

“Here,” his father handed him a cup as he returned. Aslan took it. It was very hot to the touch, almost leading him to drop it. Jennifer chuckled softly, while his father gave a grunt of disapproval. He decided to ignore both of them and took a sip. It burnt his tongue, but it was delicious. It was like the hot chocolate Griff made for him a few times.

 

“We don’t have guests because of the weather,” his father said in a very offhanded tone as he looked out the window at the blazing storm, “So for now, you’re going to sleep in the loft.”

 

“Okay,” he said into his cup. He didn’t even know what the loft looked like. He had never been permitted to go up there.

 

“It should be nice and warm up there too,” Jennifer touched his shoulder with a weak hand.

 

\---

 

It was out of reach from the fireplace, so it wasn’t as warm as Jennifer had implied. In fact, it was much colder than his own cottage room.

 

It was also quite smaller than Aslan had expected. Sure, it was common sense that it couldn’t be bigger than the tavern downstairs, but he always imagined it like a grand inn he’d hear about in Griff’s stories. Instead, it was one open room with several beds. Not super fancy, but not terrible either. Jennifer added that since he was alone, he could take the blankets from multiple beds to keep even warmer.

 

He decided to build a little fort with the blankets on top of the bed he chose. Griff had taught him a few times with their spare blankets. It was a like a cozy little house inside, and Griff would read stories to him with the bit of light peeking through. When he was finished, he’d tickle him until he cried from laughter.

 

The fort was a lot lonelier without Griff. Still, he would write about it in his next letter. He wished he could write it the next morning, but he forgot to bring some paper from his bedroom back in the cottage. The tavern had some, but his father disapproved of using too much, as he claimed it was used for business. Still, perhaps he could convince him to borrow some for such a good purpose.

 

He missed Griff so much that it hurt. Yet, as much as he wanted him physically back, at this point he at least hoped that the storm would let up so the postman could deliver letters again. Any indirect contact with him was better than this. He even wished he could run away from this place, to join his brother in the war.

 

Instead, he sat alone in the cold, lonely attic.

 

\---

 

“We need to get you to a doctor,” Aslan heard his father say as he went down the ladder from the attic. The blazing sound of the blizzard wind outside covered up his voice slightly, but Aslan could still hear him clearly.

 

“I think I would only get worse trying to get out in the storm,” she smiled weakly at her husband as she sat at the table, weakly bringing a spoonful of soup to her mouth.

 

“I can bring a doctor here--”

 

“Don’t be silly,” she cut him off, “You’ll only get yourself frozen to death. I’ll be fine.”

 

“Are you okay?” Aslan asked her point blankly as he stood at the bottom of the ladder. Both adults jumped slightly, not aware of his presence.

 

She turned to face him with her generic fake, pitiable smil. “Of course. Please don’t worry about me. Did you sleep well last night? Was it warm enough? You must be hungry, let me get you some breakfast.” She reached for the table and lifted herself up, as if the mere act of standing up was a huge struggle.

 

Which, it apparently was. Immediately she collapsed to the floor.

 

\---

 

Less than a week later, Jennifer passed away.

 

Before she did, she would often call to him, asking him to be by her bedside. It made him extremely uncomfortable. The way she looked so weak and pale, the painful coughs she made, the emotions of regret she would convey to him that made his stomach feel sick.

 

“You’re growing to be a very handsome prince, you know,” she said gripping his hand, “All the little princesses in the land are going to fight over you. I can just see it.”

 

“I dunno,” he looked down. He never really cared about meeting princesses, and the way she gripped his hand made him want to pull away even if he didn’t.

 

“You are a very good boy, Aslan,” she smiled, “Any parent would be lucky to have you.” Her smile threw him off. It was one of the most genuine smiles she ever gave him. Sad, but genuine.

 

“Then why--”

 

“Your father loves you,” she cut him off. “In his own way. I know he does. And your mother, she…” she trailed off, unable to look at him.

 

“My mother left me,” he told her. He knew she knew this and he didn’t want her to pretend any differently.

 

“I’m sorry,” she told him, “It isn’t fair to you. None of this is fair to you. It’s partially my fault, I should have been more of a mother to you, shouldn’t I?”

 

“I dunno,” Aslan responded, looking at his shoes.

 

“You know what?” she asked, reaching weakly for his hand to get his attention. Her smile was back, brighter this time.

 

“Hm?” was all he could respond with.

 

“When I get better, I’m going to be a better mother to you. No, I’m going to try and be the  _ best _ mother to you. I will teach you all the things my mother taught me. I will try my best to be there for you at all times, to make up for everything you’ve dealt with thus far. Does that sound okay?”

 

“Okay,” he answered, finding himself blushing.

 

That was the last time he saw Jennifer alive. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that it has been so long! I hadn't even realized it has been almost four months! I think part of it was that the angst levels in the show itself weren't exactly the biggest motivation to write an angsty fanfiction at the time. BUUUT now I'm more motivated to work on this!
> 
> I guess I should warn for child abuse. From my interpretation of canon with Ash and his dad, I tried to keep it what I thought was canon typical.

The ground was still too frozen for them to bury Jennifer right away. It was grotesque, but she had to be stored away for a while. She was kept in Griff and Aslan’s house, away from where they were currently living. As soon as the snow began to melt and the ground began to thaw, however, they did eventual hold a funeral.

 

It was still chilly, but flowers were beginning to bloom. It was a sign that spring was finally on its way. The flowers were beautiful and colorful, ones that Jennifer herself would have likely picked and put in the center of the table. Aslan always enjoyed flowers like this, too.

 

Quite a few people showed up to the ceremony--she always did have a positive reputation in the village as the kind tavern mistress. Many of the people in attendance were apparently frequent patrons, but Aslan didn’t recognize them. Still, it was a lovely, respectable ceremony that Jennifer would have probably appreciated. There were tears, there were stories about great things she did, there were light hearted jokes to lighten the mood. People had strong feelings about Jennifer, it seemed.

 

Despite this, Aslan found himself feeling absolutely nothing. When it was over, he simply went back to the tavern with his father, ate dinner with his father in silence, and went to bed.

 

His noticed at the time that his father also showed limited emotions. He said that she was a great gal, and that it was a shame. Still, compared to others that were sobbing over her, it felt somewhat odd to him, given that she was his wife.

 

At first, things barely changed for Aslan, barring the obvious lack of Jennifer’s presence. His father still rarely spoke to him and Aslan avoided him as best he could, but still his father had him stay in his house. When patrons started staying, he was told to sleep in the den instead, to not take up a bed a guest could take. Even if there were enough beds, his father argued that he’d just annoy him.

 

His father also always provided him food for each meal. They would eat together if he wasn’t busy, but it was always in an unsettling silence that made Aslan feel like he would have been better off eating alone. There was also a noticeable dip in quality of the food. His father wasn’t a bad cook by any means, better than Griff. Jennifer had just been an amazing one.

 

Despite there being a change in food quality, beyond that it was odd to him how little he felt about the matter. While he certainly wasn’t  _ glad  _ Jennifer was gone, he didn’t really feel a crushing loss like he felt he should have. In stories whenever someone died, especially a parental figure, the protagonist would often fall into a state of dread. Yet for some reason, even weeks after the funeral, he didn’t feel anything at all. Perhaps it was numbness? He wasn’t sure.

 

He essentially lived an ignored existence otherwise, even when his father wasn’t busy with patrons. The crushing loneliness did bother Aslan as it would any child of only six, though at this point he had grown quite frequent to it. He spent his days writing letters to Griff, hoping each day that a response from his brother would arrive, if not Griff himself. Other than that, life became even more uneventful.

 

“Come over here, boy,” his father opened the door to the den to call out to him one day.

 

“Yes?” he answered, setting aside the wooden toy horse he was playing with to obey his father.

 

“It’s just one of me now,” his father said practically under his breath, “It’s about time you pulled your own weight and contributed around here.”

 

Aslan’s green eyes glowed. To most kids his age, being told to work at the family business would be thought of as a chore they’d want desperately to get out of. Yet to someone who had only been ignored by his family and told to stay out of the way, finally having this validation made him feel like perhaps things would change. Maybe his father was finally noticing him and found value in him? At the very least, he figured he could finally contribute to something.

 

“Yessir,” he nodded fervently. 

 

“Good. We just got a large number of vegetables brought in. Make yourself useful and peel the potatoes sitting there in the kitchen,” he told him, handing over a sharp kitchen knife he had been holding.

 

“Yessir,” he said once more with another nod.

 

“Just the peels now,” his father called out to him as he began to run to the kitchen, “I don’t wanna see you wasting any of the actual potato, you hear? Unless there’s rot--cut that off.” Aslan nodded again, even though his father was unlikely to have seen it as he disappeared into the kitchen.

 

The potatoes were easily spotted--there was a very large sack of them in the corner of the kitchen, already dampened presumably because his father might have been considering doing it himself. He plopped himself down next to the sack and grabbed the first potato. As his father had ordered, he was careful to cut them as close to the skin as possible, though he did end up cutting it a little too thick at first. There was also quite a lot of mold to dodge--the potato harvest was last fall and the combined stress of the war and terrible weather made supplies like this both expensive and scarce. Nonetheless, he dumped the potatoes and peels into two separate buckets next to it where he presumed they went. This was confirmed by the fact that his father came in and out of the kitchen to cook and take away food, saying nothing on the matter. His father eventually took some of the peeled potatoes and cut them up into a large soup pot that had been boiling. 

 

It was tedious, peeling the potatoes, but for him it was somehow fun. When he told his father he was finished, the older man merely responded by rummaging through the storage for a smaller bag, full of carrots. “Now do these,” he tossed it to him. When he was finished peeling all of the vegetables his father could throw at him, he was told to take the peels and put them in the garden to use as fertilizer. 

 

That night, Aslan was served a bowl of the very same vegetable soup for dinner. His father was still busy at the tavern, so he ate it alone. That was no matter to him. He felt pride eating something he directly helped to make. Maybe he would grow into being as great of a cook as Jennifer was.

 

As time went on, he was given more and more tasks. Stir the soup so his father could work on other things. Sweep the floors. Clean the dishes. Wash the bedsheets. Then the laundry. Once he had shown his worth enough, his father even had him deliver plates of food to patrons. He didn’t have much time to play or write letters to his brother, but that was fine with him. He was helping. He had a purpose.

 

“You really need to hire another hand, Jim,” Aslan overheard a patron say one day, “Ever since Jennifer went, you’re way too in over your head. You can’t live working 365 days of the year, morning to night.”

 

“You know I can’t afford any of that,” he huffed back, “Not making money at all in the winter plus the ridiculous price hike and war taxes, I’m barely keeping it afloat as is. Besides, my youngest is helping around.” The last part made Aslan’s face flush.

 

“Yeah but the kid is how old? Eight?” the patron scoffed.

 

“I think six,” his father shrugged.

 

“Even worse. You’d be better off selling him,” he laughed. The patron then leaned in closer, softening his voice, “A kid like him? Sell him to the right people, you could easily cancel all your debt, allow you to hire another hand, and then some.”

 

“I’m not selling my son,” he responded angrily, harshly throwing his plate on the table.

 

“Just saying,” he shrugged.

 

Aslan didn’t really know how to feel with that exchange. His face was still hot, but for a different reason. At least he refused? He couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to be  _ sold _ . He decided to try his best to not think about it as he continued going about his duties.

 

Although he still didn’t have as much time to write letters, after he got used to things he still found time to write them. His father would object to him wasting paper and postage, but eventually he relented. In his letters, he tried to explain to Griff in his letters that he was a busy working boy now, meaning he had far less time. Still, he was contributing. Just like he figured that Griff was busy due to the war. Still, as spring turned into summer, he realized that it had been half a year since he last received a letter. A long time for anyone, but an  _ eternity _ for a six year old. He told himself that it was impossible that Griff had forgotten him. He’d send Aslan another letter soon enough.

 

Still, despite enjoying working around the tavern inn, he was still a kid at heart. He didn’t want to  _ just _ work. As it got hotter, Aslan wanted to go to the shore to cool off as he had always done with Griff. He understood things were busy, so he waited for a slower day. Surely a single day off wouldn’t be so bad?

 

He was nervous about asking, but he built up the courage to face his father and ask head on.

 

“No,” he answered, “I need your help.”

 

“But! What about when it’s not busy? Some days there’s hardly anyone and--”

 

“Use the time to prepare for when it will be. I’m hoping we’ll pick up real soon, so I want to be ready.” It wasn’t an angry response, but it was very firm. A response that told Aslan there was no use fighting it. He sighed and obediently went back to scrub the tables. Being an important working boy became far less exciting as time went on, he thought to himself as he wiped up spilled beer.

 

As it just so happened, in the coming days it didn’t pick up like his father wanted. Summer was supposed to be the best time for their tavern, with many tourists coming in to enjoy the seaside during the heat. Apparently, the war meant people felt less safe to travel. That sounded odd to Aslan--it seemed perfectly safe. Griff was keeping them safe, why would anyone else have to worry? He also heard that the war made things more expensive, meaning people had less money to spend. That also didn’t make sense to him.

 

His father seemed really down about this. He was always a stern, unemotional person, but somehow he seemed more troubled and melancholy than usual.

 

“It has to be okay,” Aslan told his father, “Once the war is over, everything will be like before, right?”

 

“Yeah when the war ends in ten years at this rate,” his father huffed under his breath.

 

“Ten years?” Aslan’s eyes grew wide. That was more years than he’d been alive!

 

“What do you think I am, a psychic? I dunno exactly how long, kid,” his dad scowled, “But there’s no end in sight and truth is, the tavern is in trouble. Now quit giving me a headache with your yapping and go clean the bedsheets upstairs.”

 

Ash distracted himself from that worrisome attitude from his father, and instead chose to think about Griff.  figured another letter would arrive around the time of his birthday. He knew from last year that he shouldn’t expect it right away, that it might even be a full month late. Still, even if Griff had been busy all this time, surely he’d find time to write a letter for his seventh birthday.

 

His last birthday was ignored until he got the letter, but years prior Griff would always celebrate it. He would get Jennifer to bake a cake and make him a nice dinner, Griff would always take him to the seaside, and he would always get brand new presents. He couldn’t wait until he came back, so he could have real birthdays again. He thought Jennifer might remember last year, but she didn’t. There was no way his father would this year. He preferred to not mention it, he was afraid of hearing him respond that he didn’t care.

 

For a moment, when the day came, he thought perhaps he was wrong.  For a moment that his father  _ did  _ remember his birthday this year. He had called him in, saying that he had a big announcement to make. Aslan felt a smile growing on his face and his chest pounded. Did his  father had buy him something? Or maybe he would let him have the day off for his birthday, allowing him to go to the sea for the day? Or even just a subtle “Happy birthday, son” would suffice.

 

“Letting you know, we finally got a buyer for Griff’s cottage,” his father told him, “You’re gonna have to move all your stuff out.”

 

No, he was wrong. His father did forget.

 

“A buyer?” Aslan asked, “You mean...You mean you sold the cottage?”

 

“Why’d you think I’ve been having you stay here?” his father raised an eyebrow, “You know we’re going under, I can barely afford this place, let alone that one we don’t even need. I’ve  _ been _ trying to get rid of it.”

 

“But that’s Griff’s and mine,” Aslan responded, his face falling, “Wh-Where is Griff supposed to live when he gets back?”

 

“Come on, boy,” his father huffed, “It’s been damn near a year since we last heard from him. Don’t act stupid.”

 

“So?” Aslan found his hands balling into fists, “He’s probably just busy! He’ll write again soon. It’s not like abandon us!”

 

“Grow up and face the facts, boy. I’m not saying he’d abandon you, I’m saying that this is reality. In this violent war, with this past winter, with no letters, he...Do you  _ really _ think it’s likely he’s still alive?”

 

Aslan felt his face getting red. There was  _ no way _ Griff could have died. He was too strong for that. He was valiantly fighting the war, keeping everyone safe. Keeping  _ him _ safe. He wasn’t dead. He  _ couldn _ ’t be. Hot, angry tears clouded his vision. Without thinking, he kicked his father as hard as he could in the shins and ran towards the cottage for the first time in months. He slammed open the door and ran upstairs not to his own bed, but to Griff’s.

 

Griff was still okay. Griff would come back here, and he would put Aslan to sleep with his stories just like he always did. Everything would go back to normal. His father would see. His father would regret everything!

 

He faintly heard his father enter the cottage and come up the stairs. When he arrived, he yanked Aslan by the arm, harshly pulling him up. His shoulder instantly hurt. Still, he remained as limp as possible.

 

“I don’t have time for this,” his father yelled, “I have a tavern to take care of. I need you to pack up everything you want before tomorrow, because that’s when the new people are moving in. If you choose to be a useless brat and not do as you’re told, everything is going to them. Understand?”

 

Aslan sniffed, but didn’t respond.

 

“I  _ said _ do you understand?” his father harshly repeated, harshly shaking him.

 

“Yessir,” he sniffed. He wanted his father to let him go.

 

“Good,” he responded sternly, releasing his grip, “See to it, then.” With that, his father went back down the stairs, leaving him behind.

 

His shoulder ached and his face was still wet with tears, but the scolding from his father told him that he should probably listen. He convinced himself it was only temporary, that when Griff came back, he would buy the cottage back with all his spoils from the war. 

 

He tried to tell himself he hadn’t been back here often anyway. Until Griff came back, things wouldn’t seem any different. Plus, it meant he could have more of his things in his father’s house. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Still, it made him uncomfortable thinking that someone else would be sleeping in his and Griff’s beds.

 

The first few trips he took all the books he could. They were heavy, so it took him quite a while, only able to carry so many at a time. He hadn’t been put into school like Griff said he would be so perhaps, despite it once feeling like a sin, he would try to read them himself. He wanted to get smart like Griff.

 

Next, he went through the clothing. He was going to bring some of his clothes, but he realized many of them were getting far too small. Most of his outfits were made or gotten for him by Griff, and he had few as it was that fit him anymore as his father hadn’t gotten him many new ones. Still, he tried to search through his looser outfits. He also grabbed a few clothing items of Griff’s, as he figured that he would want them back when he returned.

 

After, he went and gathered more of his toys. He hadn’t had time to play with toys in recent months and figured as he became a big boy, he would have less interest in them. Still, they were made by Griff. He should keep them.

 

He wanted to bring his mother’s trunk, but he knew it would be much too heavy for him to carry alone. It was large, and there likely wouldn’t be any space for it. His father also wouldn’t want to help him, given how angry he was earlier.

 

His mother abandoned him. Maybe it was okay for him to abandon her trunk.

 

He then gathered a few more odds and ends, and before he knew it it was late in the day. He took one last look inside the cottage and sighed as he returned. He was afraid to face his father, but gathered the courage to tell him that that he was finished. He merely responded with a nod and signaled another pile of vegetables for him to peel. He obeyed. By the time he went to sleep that night, he had completely forgotten that it was his birthday.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think <3
> 
> Don't worry, he's not a little kid forever in this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being seven wasn’t really that exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In light of recent concerns within the BF fandom at large, I want to make it absolutely clear that this story does not and will not sexualize any sort of trauma. Nothing will be explicit, and like the series itself I want to portray everything in a respectful manner. Not that it's happening in this chapter or anything, but just felt the need to put that out there.
> 
> Second of all, I tried to get this out as quickly as possible, so excuse typos/grammar mistakes/etc.
> 
> LASTLY, reminder that this is a loose "Cinderella inspired" story, not a literal retelling. It will be more blatantly Cinderella-ish...later.

Being seven wasn’t really that exciting.

 

The people who bought the cottage moved in, though Aslan didn’t see much of them. They were a young couple with a baby, with no interest in visiting the tavern. If it were not for more of his and Griff’s belongings being in his father’s house, it was almost as though there was no real difference. He continued working in the inn as best he could, to which his father would give him more and more tasks, despite the fact that customers seemed to be coming in less and less.

 

At first, he overheard his father say to his friends that selling the old cottage helped him quite a lot with his debt. He told them that he regretfully didn’t sell it for the best price he hoped for, but given the times it was enough. That gave the child some peace of mind. He still was too young to truly understand finances, but he knew if his father said things would be okay that could only be a good sign.

 

Of course, he was still upset over the place being sold in the first place. He convinced himself over and over that it was only temporary, that once Griff came back the place would be theirs again. It wasn’t so bad that in the meantime it helped them out. It made him sick to think of other people living there, other people sleeping in their beds. He hoped the baby didn’t slobber on all of their things.

 

For the most part, however, things remained the same. He worked with little time for any sort of play, only going outside to run short errands or tend to the garden. He considered sneaking off to the seaside, but he knew it would take too long. His father was already yelling at him quite frequently for taking too long to do things.

 

Still no letters from Griff. He had given up on expecting to ever receive another letter again. He wasn’t entirely sure why they stopped. Maybe he was in a place without mail, maybe they didn’t have enough paper, it could be any number of reasons. Even though it hurt, he told himself it was out of Griff’s control and he probably missed his little brother as much as he missed him.

 

Of course he didn’t believe he was dead, and still fully expected him to come home to him one day. While he scrubbed the dirty plates, he would often daydream of the day Griff would return from the war. He would run back and pick Aslan up in a giant hug, quickly commenting on how much bigger he had gotten. He would have presents for him from his travels, as well as dozens of stories that would take him weeks if not years to tell them all. Best of all, things would go back to the way they were before. Griff and him living alone in their quaint cottage. No more working in the inn from morning to night under his father’s judgmental glare.

 

Maybe he would even be able to go to school. Griff told him that he would go when he was old enough. At seven, he knew he was old enough. He wanted to learn, to get smarter. He wanted to play with other kids, to make friends. Patrons at the inn were sometimes friendly to him, but they were always only adults. He wanted to be around people his own age for once. He did have a handful of friends when Griff was around. His brother would arrange with their parents for them to play together every so often. Of course, he had barely seen any of them since the day Griff left. Sometimes in passing, to which he would wave. They would usually ignore him in return.

 

He did ask his father a couple times if he could go to school, at least one day a week. His father always shot him down, saying he was needed there. He’d yell about how things were getting worse and worse around here. There was no arguing it further.

 

Other than that, time seemed to be practically nonexistent. Seasons changed gradually. This winter was far less harsh than the last, thankfully. They didn’t have to completely shut down, and still had patrons, even if it was far fewer than his father groaned that he would have liked. It was still bitterly cold, not helped by the fact that most of his winter clothes were too small and worn out. Unlike when the weather was nice, he hated going out in the freezing cold. His hands and nose quickly grew numb and his lips became very chapped. He enjoyed playing in the snow when he was younger, but since he was in no way able to play in it, he merely found the snow a nuisance.

 

Thankfully, it did eventually melt into spring once more. As the flowers bloomed, his father ordered him to pick some to make potpourri to hide bad smells left behind from dirty customers or rotting foods. He hadn’t really expected for beautiful spring flowers he once enjoyed to become another one of his endless chores.

 

From spring came summer. It was oppressively hot this year, more than usual. Even though the windows and doors remained wide open, the breeze was too light to bring in much cool air to make any sort of difference. Once more he longed desperately to go to the sea, to throw himself into the cool salty ocean water. This year, however, he knew better than to ask. He hadn’t been given a single day off since last summer, always having  _ some _ sort of task to do throughout the year. 

 

He grew quite a bit, meaning his father desperately needed to buy him new clothes. He complained that it was a shame that Jennifer was dead, meaning that she couldn’t make him some. Instead, he picked through some of Griff’s smaller sized clothing as well as trading and buying some second hand ones from the village. None of them were at all nice, but he figured it was something.

 

Aslan didn’t pay much attention to the dates as his father didn’t buy a calendar this year. Only when he overheard the date mentioned in conversation, did he know what month it was. He wasn’t entirely sure when his eighth birthday past, though he knew it didn’t matter much as his father wouldn’t recognize it anyway. When the leaves started changing for fall, he figured it was safe to assume he was eight now.

 

He began to absolutely resent his life at the inn. The days the work made himself feel useful were long, long over. Instead, he felt like he was taken advantage of by his father, used for the free labor without any sort of concern for his feelings or wellbeing. He was beginning to understand that the taxes taken by people in fancy outfits were getting larger and larger, and the customers getting fewer and fewer. Yet still, even if he understood that times were tough, he didn’t view it as his father  _ needing _ him.

 

He never felt his father cared much for him, but for most of his life he always  _ heard _ that he did from Jennifer or Griff, so he always had that inkling of hope that perhaps deep, deep down he did. Or, at the very least, maybe one day he would grow to. Not anymore.

 

His father was probably completely incapable of love, to be honest. He didn’t have any concern for his eldest son at war. He cared more about Jennifer’s death in terms of her usefulness and labor being gone, as opposed to feeling heartbreak over losing a beloved wife. His father didn’t love him. He kept him around because of the usefulness he provided. When Griff and Jennifer wasn’t around, he wasn’t useful to him, hence why his two sons lived in a separate residence. He probably also felt that he must fit into society, and as such he had to take care of his son to look good in the eyes of the people. Particularly, his customers. 

 

Even at a young age, he understood this perfectly. Though perhaps he was mature for his age. Patrons told him this quite frequently.

 

“I’m not sure,” he would shrug in response when they would compliment him with that.

 

“You seem almost like a mini adult in a child’s body,” an older female customer told him. She meant it kindly, saying it with a big smile, “You must be very smart. Do you do well in school?”

 

“I don’t go to school,” he explained as he poured her more tea, “I’m needed here to help my father.”

 

“That’s a shame,” her face fell, “Are you able to read or do basic arithmetic? I would think that would be useful to you around here.”

 

“Yeah. My brother taught me before he went away to war.”

 

“You know,” she leaned in and told him in a quiet voice, “Before I retired a few years back, I was a school teacher myself. I still have a number of textbooks that I can give you. They’re rather old, but I think they could benefit you a great deal.”

 

His eyes glowed for a second, but then his face fell again. “My father wouldn't like that. He’d call it a waste of time.” His father didn’t even like him reading Griff’s stories that were already in their possession. He should sleep and be well rested to work the next day, but if he wasn’t tired he should be finding something to do that was more useful. He still read them when he could, but it wasn’t nearly as frequently as he’d like.

 

“Then he doesn’t need to know,” she winked.

 

As promised, a few days later she returned with the textbooks. She obscured them in what looked like a potato sack, to which he quickly went and hid them in the den where he slept. She smiled and told him to ask her if she had any questions. He didn’t want to bother her, but he still agreed, thanking her profoundly. 

 

He was excited that night to go through them. He was dead tired from peeling hundreds of vegetables and raking up all the leaves on their property, but he was determined to stay awake as long as the candlelight remained lit. His father would be mad at him for using the entire candle instead of blowing it out, but he would claim he fell asleep with it still burning by mistake and would deal with the consequences later.

 

Among the textbooks were ones on grammar, writing, arithmetic, and history. He went through all of them briefly, unsure which he should start with to study intensely. He ended up mainly skimming that night, taking in quite a bit but not nearly as much as he would if he focused on a specific topic. Even when the candle abruptly burnt out, leaving him in total darkness of the night, he found himself having trouble sleeping.

 

He was finally doing something like a normal kid again. Even if he wasn’t in a school house and was doing it virtually in secret, he was practically in school, right? 

 

Every night, he studied. It left him far more tired of a day, but he didn’t care. He would recite multiplication tables in his head as he prepared food, he would correct his grammar in his internal monologue, he would fantasize about the histories he read about. He finally felt like he was being stimulated mentally in some sort of way. As winter was barely starting, he had gone through all of them, and felt that he had for the most part mastered everything.

 

“But it’s only been a couple months!” the woman said astonishedly.

 

“I’ve been studying every night!” his face glowed.

 

“Are you sure you’ve mastered everything?” she asked, still still stunned.

 

“I think so,” he told her, “Maybe you could test me?” So she did. As he went back and forth between the kitchen and the tavern, she would ask him questions for every subject that he would easily answer, only getting a few wrong.

 

“That’s amazing,” she told him, her tone proving to him that she really meant it, “That was over a year’s worth of materials.”

 

“Thank you! I really like learning,” he smiled, “I was hoping I could exchange them for some new ones from you?”

 

The woman’s face fell. “I’m sorry, hon. Those are the only ones I still have left.”

 

“Oh,” his face likewise fell.

 

“You really should go to school,” she said in an encouraging tone, trying to bring back her smile, “With your brains, I feel like you could qualify for the most prestigious academies in the city. I could speak to your father, perhaps I can help convince him? At the very least, maybe he’d let you go to the local schoolhouse once or twice a week?”

 

“That would never happen.”

 

“I think I should speak to him anyway,” she told him, “It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

 

“Please don’t!” his voice grew more desperate, “He’d only get mad that I was doing this behind his back!”

 

“You never know, I can be quite persuasive.”

 

As Aslan had warned her, it only led his father to get angry at him. He yelled at him in front of the entire tavern, telling him he was an ungrateful brat going behind his back like that. That he noticed he was far more tired and less attentive, and was furious that it was from this of all things. He demanded that the woman take the textbooks and never return to the tavern again. She did try to reason with him, saying that Aslan was a smart boy who deserved to excel in school and have a childhood.  He should have a life outside of working day after day in an inn full of drunkards. He told her that she had no business telling him how to raise his son.

 

Aslan was going to miss her. He wished she would have listened to him. As she had told him before, he was mature for his age. He was able to figure out how his father worked.

 

He expected it. He didn’t cry, even if his chest hurt. Yet, even so, it was as if something snapped in him. His father was always going to be like this. Griff might not come home for many more years….if ever. He wasn’t going to be given opportunities to learn or have friends or a normal childhood. This awful, strenuous tavern life was probably all he was ever going to get.

 

He couldn't accept that anymore. He wanted out. He needed out. He didn’t care where or how, but he couldn’t stay here much longer. Not if he wanted to avoid losing his absolute mind.

 

His mind recalled the regular customer that recommended his father selling him once. It was years ago now, but something like that never left his mind, heightened by the fact that the man was still a regular customer, always staring at him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable in ways he couldn’t describe. Of course, his father had said no to the proposition, and he would probably continue to say no. Being known as a man who sold his son would only hurt his image. If not for the morals of it, for the fact that it would make him seem incredibly desperate.

 

At the time, it was a relief that his father turned the notion down. The concept of being sold was a scary one to him. He wouldn’t be around when Griff came home. He didn’t know where he would end up, what sort of life he’d be sold into. Even if was for the wrong reasons, he was glad for a long time that his father staunchly refused.

 

And yet.

 

To be fair, he had no idea what that sort of thing would entail. He was already in an awful situation. Things weren’t getting better, and to be honest he didn’t know if and when they ever would. He knew Griff was out there, but he didn’t know how many years it would be until he came back. He only heard that the war had no end in sight and that it very well might be a very long time.

 

If he was in fact sold, what sort of life would he have? Perhaps it would be to a young family who couldn’t have kids of their own, something Griff told him happened a few times when he asked once why a child looked so different from their parents. Perhaps it would be to someone who had work for him, but maybe that work would give him breaks and let him attend school and make friends.

 

It was impossible to imagine that any of those situations would be worse than that of what he currently was dealing with.

 

Of course, he hadn’t suddenly decided that he  _ definitely  _ wanted to be sold or anything. He only knew he couldn’t stay where he was. That was just one option. He did strongly consider running away. That would be a good option, he figured, if not for the war making things dangerous, or so he heard. 

 

When the man one again returned as a patron one day the nagging feeling continued to fester in Aslan. Usually he avoided this man like the plague, always uncomfortable with the way he stared him down. Yet this time, he felt a compulsion to ask him as it would probably only get him into trouble, for the very least for eavesdropping. Still, after doing his best to ignore this, he did find himself eventually giving in.

 

“Excuse me sir,” he brought up the courage to ask him as he brought him his bowl of pottage, “Can I ask something?”

 

The man raised an eyebrow skeptically. “If you won’t be too long,” he eventually responded as he reached for his spoon.

 

“Well,” he stumbled, unable how to start, “I didn’t mean to, but I remember hearing you talk a while ago about my father selling me.”

 

“Don’t worry, kid, he said no.”

 

“I know!” he frowned, “I was just... _ If _ he did, what exactly would he have sold me to? What sort of life would I have?”

 

“Why, you  _ wanna _ be sold or something?” he practically laughed, taking a spoonful of food.

 

“I--I was just curious. I mean, if it’s not that bad or anything.”

 

The man put his spoon back on the table gave Aslan a very unreadable hard stare, as if analyzing him or perhaps wondering what he should say next. Aslan himself was unsure if his words were too bold. Perhaps this man would report this to his father and get him in trouble.

 

“Are you that unhappy here?” he asked finally. Aslan froze. This question could easily be a setup. His father could hear him and call him ungrateful. 

 

Still, it wasn’t like he currently had a lot of options. Maybe it was worth taking the risks.

 

“Yes,” he said slowly and quietly enough that his father wouldn’t be able to hear him from the kitchen, “I don’t like it here. I want to leave, and if being sold isn’t so bad, maybe I should be. I want to be able to be around other kids and learn things.”

 

“You’re not grateful for your father taking care of you?”

 

“It’s not that,” he lied defensively, “It’s just...I want to be able to do more than be here. He doesn’t really like me anyway and if he could get money from doing that, wouldn’t it be better for everyone?”

 

“Your father wouldn’t agree to it,” he told him, “He’s always refused.”

 

“You could always go behind his back!” he found his voice rising more than was safe, “Once he had the money, he’d get over it!”

 

The man smirked, “You really  _ are _ desperate to get out, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” he admitted, lowering his head.

 

“You still don’t even know what sort of thing that would entail. You...A kid like you would definitely be fought over, but what sorta life you’d have would entirely depend on who ended up taking you in.  _ I  _ wouldn’t be able to guarantee what sort of work you’d be put into. Being honest, you might not like it, kid.”

 

“Would I be able to learn things and be around other kids?”

 

“Oh almost definitely,” he let out an unsettling chuckle, “Truth be told I’ve been in this business for a long time and had been hoping your dad would give you up, though I’ve never had a kid  _ asking _ to be sold from his family,” he leaned back in his chair, “This is very interesting.”

 

“Then I think I’d like it,” he said, “I can’t imagine worse than this.”

 

“Are you sure about this, kid?” he asked again, unsettling smirk growing, “Once you do this, there wouldn’t be any turning back.”

 

Aslan paused for a moment. It was a big leap of faith. He knew Griff would be awfully disappointed when he’d return from the war, having quite a lot of trouble trying to find him wherever he ended up. Though perhaps Aslan in his better life would be able to seek him out. He would never be able to repair the damaged relationship with his father, but at this point he didn’t really want to. He also figured if he really, really hated his new life, he could always run away like his back up plan and figure something else out, even if that was more dangerous and risky.

 

He also didn’t trust this man. He always gave him an odd feeling in his stomach, one that he couldn’t ignore. Yet he realized he had no  _ reason _ to feel this, and he may be the only one willing to help him out. Perhaps it was silly to judge him.

 

“Yes,” he finally answered, “Please help me.”

 

The man’s smirk grew into a full, toothy smile. “If you’re absolutely sure,” he leaned in, making sure the couple other patrons wouldn’t be able to hear, “It just so happens that I’m leaving this village tonight. Meet me at the seaside at midnight tonight and we can go off together.” 

 

Almost as if on cue, his father then yelled for him, asking what was taking so long. Aslan nodded at the man and quickly rushed to the patron at the other side of the tavern and took his empty beer stein to have it refilled. Back to work.

 

He worked hard on his chores for the rest of the night, and then as the winter night came early, he helped close things down and get the sole patron staying the night into his bed. He ate dinner, told his father goodnight, and pretended to sleep. He had no final words to say to his father.

 

As soon as enough time had passed, he quickly but quietly bounced up. He had no way of telling what time was midnight, his father had sold the only clock in the den about a year ago. It was cold outside, so he figured he should wear as many layers as possible. He considered bringing some toys Griff had made him or some of their books, but decided that they would just be a nuisance to hold onto. Griff would give them back to him one day.

 

He did slip his letters into his pocket, however. Those would be easy to carry.

 

As quietly as possible, he took one last look at the house he grew so much to hate and quietly walked out the front door. The winter winds were strong, but he managed to make it close lightly without slamming. Without looking back at the house behind him, he ran to the shoreline for the first time in years, still remembering the way like the back of his hand, even in the moonless dark of the night.

 

It was very cold, but thankfully there was no snow. He plopped down on the familiar, nostalgic sand. He couldn’t see anything in the dark, but he could hear the waves crashing. He missed it. If only it wasn’t so cold or in the middle of the night, he thought as he buried his hands into the sand. It was alright, though. He’d be back one day.

 

Not long later, he heard a man approaching, lit dimly by a candle he was carrying. He had come for him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave back any feedback <3
> 
> There will be a timeskip


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's absolutely shocking to me that I was able to write a new chapter in about a week.
> 
> Pretty turning point chapter. Maybe slightly more insight into how things will pan out?

**_Ten Years Later_ **

 

“Ash!” a voice yelled from down the stairs.  It was faint from the attic, but nonetheless clearly loud and angry. He didn’t really want to acknowledge it--he didn’t sleep well last night and would much prefer to lay in bed all day. At the same time, he knew from experience if he didn't act on the call, it would only become louder and angrier. The defiance and extra sleep wasn’t really worth the effort, at least not now.

 

So with that, Ash slowly sat up in the hay filled mattress from which he slept. It was lumpy and uncomfortable by most standads, but he much preferred sleeping in it  _ alone _ than sharing the soft, feather mattresses with...others. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with a stretch as he forced himself to not dwell on it and get ready for the day.

 

He looked at himself in the dull mirror in the attic. His appearance sure had changed significantly since he first arrived here all those years ago. Gone was his roundish baby face, replaced with a lean one with a defined jawline. His eyes were still the stunning shade of green they had always been, but now instead of being large puppy dog eyes that showcased the innocence of a young boy, they had grown into the eyes of a jaded young adult. He was still on the leaner side, but now he was well fed enough that he was no longer a bony, underfed child. He could now boast a decent body with lean but defined muscle.

 

His hair was an absolute mess. He would have to somewhat straighten it up if he didn’t want to get scolded. His eyes were slightly red and had dark circles under them which he knew was undesirable, but frankly there was nothing he could do about it, so he found himself not caring. He brushed his fingers through his hair to halfheartedly attempt to manage it, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and decided it was enough and would just get dressed already.

 

His current assortment of clothes were far nicer than any he had back in his old village. Many outfits he had were rather standard and plain, but in comparison for his cheap hand me downs he had as a child, they were a definite step up. It had been important for him to be “presentable” or so he was constantly told, and sometimes there were no expenses held back to do so. In fact, some of his outfits were quite lavish and expensive, ones like he saw in illustrations in books his brother read to him so very long ago.

 

Ash felt his chest hurt. He always tried to block out thoughts of his brother. Even after everything, even after his tolerance level for quite a few painful things grew exponentially, that particular topic still hurt far too much for him to dwell on and threatened to break the wall of emotional numbness he built up.

 

He decided today, as a sort of slight, he would pick one of his more simple outfits. A plain matching set of brown pants and vest as well as a white blouse. The blouse was made of a very nice fabric, which kind of defeated the purpose of trying to go simplye. Even so, it was a plain enough outfit and the brown vest diminished it quite a bit. He looked at himself in the mirror once more. It would do.

 

There was another angry calling out of his name, to which he groaned and yelled back that he was coming. At least he was already ready.

 

He looked in the mirror one more time. The young man looking back at him truly felt like a stranger. He sighed and headed towards the descending staircase

 

“Ash, my boy, what took you so long?” the man at the bottom asked, his tone now much softer than before. He softly placed a hand upon Ash’s shoulder as soon as he was within reach. “Your breakfast is getting cold. I had the chef prepare the eggs just how you like them.”

 

“I’m not in the mood for eggs,” Ash responded with a frown. The man frowned back.

 

“I wouldn’t wouldn’t recommend such ungratefulness to the kindness extended to you,” the man said in a low tone, gripping Ash’s shoulder painfully tight, “You have already been in many bad graces lately. If you do not wish to ruin all the opportunities that I have so graciously offered up to you since I brought you in all those years ago, I suggest you alter your manners.”

 

“Whatever you say,” Ash responded in a deadpan voice, walking forward towards the dining room, breaking free from the older man’s grip.

 

In a way, he truly was given opportunities. Back then, all he wanted was to be given an education, to be around other children. He was given both of those things. There were other boys always surrounding him alright. Later on especially, he was given the best tutors in the land, making him at 18 more educated than older men and women who attended the finest academies and universities.

 

He wasn’t, however, given a childhood like he had so desperately wanted. From the day he first ran away with the man he should have never trusted, that was made abundantly clear. He didn’t have a childhood at the tavern and was already mature for his age, but even still, any remnants of childish feelings and hopes were quickly smothered away forever. He was 18 now, a legal adult. Yet it didn’t mean much to him at all. His childhood was over a long time ago.

 

“There you are, Ash,” the voice of a younger teen greeted him with mock politeness as he made it to the dining room to take his seat, “I had been wondering if after what you pulled, if Monsieur had finally decided to dispose of you.”

 

“That’s funny,” Ash responded, taking his seat at the large, grandiose dining table, “I was wondering the same of you.” He politely placed the napkin on his lap and began to eat the food that was, as he was warned, was getting cold. It didn’t matter to him. Even if this was some sort of high class food from some expensive chef, he always found everything served to him in this house incredibly bland.

 

The other boy just scoffed, finishing the last bits of his breakfast he had long since started.

 

He was 16, a little over two years younger than Ash. He was very beautiful, but in a much more feminine way than Ash was. He always dressed in elegant, feminine clothing to accentuate that. He had long, silky black hair that was currently held loosely by a band to the side, but often would be up in fancy hairstyles that would take forever for servants to do. The boy knew his beauty and, unlike Ash,  actively wanted to make the most of it.

 

Although they’ve lived together for a few years now and shared essentially the same living situation, the two boys were far from friends. Ash had made the mistake of trusting him early on, but had quickly learned his lesson. Ash had graciously tried to comfort him and help him with his new life in the manor, using his own experiences to help the younger adjust. At first, the young boy played innocent, taking advantage of Ash’s attempts at protection and comfort. Ash despised knowing that terrible things would happen to this young boy, but he was grateful that if they both had to go through this, they would at least have each other.

 

That changed quite quickly. The boy did not actually want Ash as a friend and support system. He did not view the older boy as someone to help him get through things. He viewed him as  _ competition _ . He wanted to be the favored one, the one who got all the attention and care. He wanted to take advantage of the estate, to hopefully rise above and reap power from it. Ash was only someone who could get in his way. 

 

He let Ash vent all his concerns, let him give him advice on how to avoid things, his dreams of running away and getting out of here. The boy pretended to listen fervently as Ash earnestly confessed his feelings. In return, the boy spoke very little about himself, but prompted Ash with questions and confessions about how dissatisfied he was with his life. As it would be, all to in turn report all of Ash’s confessions to Monsieur Dino Golzine.

 

Naturally, Ash was severely punished. While it was happening, he really though Dino going to kill him. He ultimately didn’t, but he did have him do... _ unsavory _ jobs for a while at a far less satisfactory location. He wasn’t told at the time it was temporary, of course, and thought that he ended up putting himself in a somehow worse situation. After an unknown amount of days, however, Dino came for him. He asked him if he had learned his lesson. He said yes.

 

He did learn a lesson, just perhaps not the one intended for him. He learned once and for all that he should never truly trust anyone again. He trusted his father to take care of him, but he was only ever neglected and exploited for labor. He oh so foolishly trusted the man who took him away. He initially trusted Dino when he took him in and promised him a lavish life. He trusted a boy he thought would be the one person to empathize with his pain. 

 

Not anymore. No one was going to support him. No one was going to help him. He could make alliances and acquaintances with people, but he must always have his guard up and presume that they could turn their back on him at any moment. He wasn’t going to be a fool and trust anyone but himself. It was up to himself alone to try and navigate life.

 

Still. It’s not that he didn’t  _ want _ to trust people. He longed to eventually find someone who he could truly and completely trust, that he knew deep within his heart would never betray him. Someone who would listen to him, to  _ care  _ about him. Still, he tried to dismiss this longing and recognize that it was a delusional fantasy. A fantasy that was more dangerous than comforting to have. False hope, arguably more than misplaced trust, was what got him into this mess. The situation he was in, everything he had gone through, many people wouldn’t even  _ want _ him as someone to confide in. Someone like him wasn’t going to get some storybook happy ending like he once dreamed of so very long ago.

 

Afterall, Ash was a prostitute. A high class prostitute by all means, but a prostitute nonetheless. People who knew this about him were always going to look down upon or stick their nose at him. If they didn’t do that, he found from experience that they would only ever objectify him. Not to say there weren’t prostitutes out there who  _ enjoy  _ their lives as such that he had met. Though of course those were the ones who always had a  _ choice _ in the matter, taking on said occupation of their own volition. Unlike with his own entry into the life, were it was something  _ forced  _ upon him in childhood.

 

Even Youssis didn’t  _ enjoy _ this life, Ash knew. He just had firmly accepted his role and decided to use it to his advantage. Carefully waiting, eventually planning to exploit the situation in whatever way he could for his own benefit, regardless if it required stepping on others in the process. 

 

“Good, you’re eating up,” Dino called out as he entered the dining room, “I like you slender, but I was worried you weren’t eating enough and would get  _ too _ thin.” Ash found himself internally cringing at the comment, suddenly not wanting to eat this cold, bland food even more. Externally, he kept his face expressionless.

 

“I wouldn’t give him ideas,” Youssis smirked, “He might start starving himself out of some sense of ‘rebellion’.” 

 

“You sure like to come up with crazy fantasies about me,” Ash responded passively, taking another bite, “Are you sure you aren’t projecting something?”

 

“Boys,” Dino laughed, as he sat down at his own seat at the end of the table, “You don’t need to fight for my affection.”

 

Youssis gave a charming laugh, but Ash could hear discomfort within it no matter how much he tried to hide it. It was when situations arose or comments like these were made that where deep down Ash and Youssis both could empathize with each other’s feeling of disgust. Too bad they both hated each other far too much to do anything than to wordlessly share that feeling. Ash merely continued eating his food without uttering another sound.

 

After breakfast, Ash and Youssis were expected to attend meetings of Dino’s. As Ash had been disciplined, this was to be the first day back at the meetings, which was an odd punishment and reward given how much he hated sitting in at them. It was clear from day one when Ash first arrived all those years ago that, based on the size and lavish nature of his manor, Dino was an extremely successful and powerful man in his own right. He was not royalty, but he had high status nonetheless. For the first couple years Ash was kept in the dark, only able to eavesdrop on whispers of business practices. As he rose up in favor more and more, he was eventually in turn told more and more.

 

It was decently obvious early on that Dino was someone who worked underground. It would seem clear from the fact he bought young children to be sex slaves that any sort of work he would do would be immoral, but it extended beyond that. Sure, it did include a wider slave and sex trade, but he was a man with far reach who seemed to be a jack of all trades.

 

His most profitable business venture was war.

 

Ash would have never guessed when he was a young child that people would  _ profit  _ off of war. He had only seen how it destroyed, ruined, and bankrupt. War took his brother, the only person who ever loved him, far away from him and never to be seen again. It put his father and many others in poverty. It made resources more scarce, causing many to needlessly starve.

 

Yet here Dino was, profiting off of it all. Controlling the trade, selling weaponry, getting richer and richer as so many others got poorer and poorer. As a child, he figured the war had no end in sight because the conflict simply couldn’t be resolved. Now he realized that it was entirely because those who made money off of it did not  _ want _ it to end. It made him absolutely sick and he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

 

“Those awful eggs didn’t sit well with me at all,” Ash falsely complained, “I don’t think I can sit in at your meeting today.”

 

“That won’t do,” Dino answered, “Shall I call for a doctor?”

 

“Nah, not like that,” he shrugged, “I just don’t think I can put up dealing with your droning on about all of that when I’m like this.”

 

“Very well,” he sighed, “Just don’t make your absence a habit.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

He was happy to plop back down on his bed in the attic. This room was a punishment, replaced by the larger, grander room he once had, yet he didn’t mind that at all. This one made him feel like he had more privacy, like he was away from it all. Of course, he was locked inside of it, but that didn’t change the feeling of relative freedom. Though that  feeling did very much have to do with the fact that he had figured out how to scale himself down from the widow safely without being caught.

 

After resting for a few minutes, Ash stood up and went over to the window, swinging it open. He stuck his head out to look in all directions, making sure no one was in the yard watching. Not a soul. He smirked as he sat on the window sill and prepared to go down. The stones on the large walls of the manor were stylistically uneven, making it quite easy to climb. It was honestly a wonder how they didn’t consider how easy it would be for him to escape.

 

In the past, he did consider running away completely and never returning. Perhaps with a few valuable things in his arms that he could sell for a decent sum to try to make a life for himself. But as years went by, he knew that Dino’s underground reach ran far too wide. They probably don’t care in the slightest just seeing him out and about as, at times, Dino explicitly let him go free. However, if he went “officially missing” that would be another story. There would be a strong bounty out for him. Many public officials were secretly compromised by Dino. If he got caught, things would only get exponentially worse for him. It wasn’t worth the risk at this point. It wasn’t worth dwelling on, either.

 

He jumped down once he was a few feet from the ground. He sighed as he brushed off the dirt that had collected on his pants from the stone wall. He looked around once more. No one still. There probably wouldn’t be anyone, as there was that oh so important meeting going on. Servants maybe, but they wouldn't report him. He technically outranked them, afterall.

 

There was a very tall iron gate that surrounded the manor, complete with spikes at the top that would make it very difficult to scale. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. He had instead used some of the shrubbery at the edges of parts to his advantage, years ago gradually digging up a hole underneath that he could conceal. He would have redig it in cases of rain, but other than that it was almost embarrassingly simple for him to sneak out from under it. 

 

If he ever got caught out and about, he could always lie and say the guard at the front let him out. Dino would probably believe Ash’s word over theirs. He would probably have consequences, but merely going out for a few hours wouldn’t be the worst thing he had eventually been forgiven for. Although he utterly despised Dino and his attention and all it brought him, the fact that he was so heavily favored was a double edged sword that he could, at times, use to his advantage.

 

It had rained a few days ago, so there was a bit of mud on his clothes as he went through his hole in the ground. It was a good thing he decided to wear brown, making it less noticable and suspicious when he’d be seen again today. From there, he briskly walked to the town square. It wasn’t that far, Dino was of enough wealth to be conveniently located, but also distant enough to allow for privacy, his estate concealed in the nearby forest. It was perhaps 20 minutes on foot if he kept a fast pace. Given that the estate was also within the geographical limits, he also didn’t have to worry about guards stopping him upon entry to the town square itself.

 

It was a quite nice town. Afterall, it was the capital of the kingdom. The royal palace was located nearby on the mountainside. Unlike Dino’s estate which was kept fully concealed by the surrounding forest, the castle was fully visibly from the town square. Its presence loomed over it, always reminding any resident or passersby of its existence. Although Dino’s estate was by every means a mansion, even it didn’t compare to the enormous, grandiose walls of the royal palace.

 

It was full of quirky shops and businesses that one could only describe as “cute”. Far unlike the grim, gothic nature of Dino’s own estate that seemed to only oppress. There were always people going about their way, shopping in the markets, gossiping among friends. It was as if everyone here was completely untouched by the horrors of the seemingly eternal war. That is, unless one knew where exactly to look. There were poor beggars, more likely than not refugees from the war. There were dirty children running about, begging to shine shoes for a piece of bread. He knew a decent number of them would likely eventually be picked up and sold like he was, which hurt his heart. It also reminded him of his considerations of running away long ago. Perhaps if he did, he would have merely been picked up anyway. Perhaps this fate was completely inevitable for him.

 

“Ash!” a voice called. He turned his head and saw a familiar face approaching him.

 

Ash, being a charismatic young person, had found it easy to make acquaintances with many of the street youth. Although he was not one of them, being the property of Dino, he had the sort of roughness and life experience that made them want to listen to and follow him. Given his knowledge on the underworld and dealings with the kingdom, he was quite a valuable person to them, essentially becoming a leader of sorts. Dino had of course found out, but he actually only approved. He figured it was proof of his natural abilities and good practice for the future.

 

“Shorter,” he nodded, “I was looking for you.”

 

“I see you managed to get away from the old man’s place?” he smirked, “None of those briefings today?”

 

“Said I felt ill,” he shrugged.

 

His friends (if he could call most of them that) in the town did of course know that he lived in Dino’s estate. It was pointless hiding the fact, it was relatively common knowledge throughout the town as a whole. He was seen with him in public quite often, figures regarded him as such. He told him that he was taken in and groomed to be a potential heir, which was true. He told him he was part of his underground world and given significant training to know the business, which was also completely true.

 

Of course, he didn’t include the fact that he was Dino’s personal concubine. Although plenty of high ranking figures  _ used _ him over the years, the fact that he was merely a child at the time and many were married meant they would want their actions to be unannounced. Dino didn’t exactly blast that fact either, only ever presenting Youssis and Ash as protegees in public. So for those reasons, Ash’s privacy was kept safe.

 

“You haven’t been around much lately,” Shorter frowned, “We were worried somethin’ happened.”

 

He was going to admit that something  _ had  _ happened recently that got him on Dino’s bad side, but he decided to refrain. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. It also wasn’t exactly the best image to portray by confessing to such.

 

“I’ve been busy,” he answered.

 

“I guess that makes sense,” he shrugged, gesturing towards Ash to follow him to join up with the others, “I mean, what with some prince coming into town and all.”

 

“Excuse me?” Ash stopped in his tracks. 

 

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “It’s not exactly public information yet, I only was able to spread it because someone in the shop mentioned it. Still, figured you would have known...given.”

 

Shorter Wong was “less street” than many of his acquaintances, given that he and his sister ran a modest restaurant in the town. They weren’t rich by any means, but they managed to scrape by. It helped that a lot of people of interest tended to visit whenever they wanted to be out of the public eye for discussions of sensitive matters. It certainly helped Shorter be in the know and share a lot of information,  _ almost  _ on par with Ash.

 

Shorter was also probably the one of all of them he was most likely to consider a friend. He always tried to keep his guard up just in case, but at times he found himself genuinely having fun with him, a rare experience for him. He genuinely liked Shorter as a person.

 

“Like I said, I’ve been sick.”

 

“I thought you said you’re  _ pretending _ to be sick,” he raised an eyebrow.

 

“I was. Now I’m pretending to  _ still  _ be sick,” he frowned.

 

“Y’know, you don’t need to be so defensive with me,” Shorter laughed, throwing his hands behind his head. Ash’s frown deepened. He would have given an annoyed response back, but they were interrupted by greetings from other people calling out to both of them as they made their way around the corner.

 

“Hey, look who’s back from the dead,” Shorter smirked as they approached the group of about five or so youths loitering in one of the back alleys of the village. They were all sitting upon storage containers behind Shorter’s restaurant, a place where they wouldn’t be shooed away.

 

“Ash!” a dusty haired youth stood up with a casual, laid back smile. 

 

“Alex,” Ash nodded. Alex was someone else Ash felt he could count on for these sorts of purposes. They weren’t ones for personal conversations of sorts, but Ash felt Alex was reliable enough.

 

“I bet you’ve been busy with the that prince coming to town,” he said, “We’ve missed having you around.”

 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ash furrowed his eyebrows, “I’ve been sick.”

 

“Oh really?” Alex asked in surprise,  “Well, I’m glad you’re better now.”

 

“Doesn’t matter. Tell me what’s going on.”

 

“Right, I was gonna,” Shorter interjected. He sat down and contemplated how he would share this information. “So uh, basically like we said. It’s still very on the down low, but there’s word that a foreign prince is coming to town soon.”

 

“Big deal,” Ash shrugged, casually sitting down upon one of the crates in a relaxed position, “This is the capital. We get foreign allies visiting all the time.”

 

“No, no,” Alex quickly answered, “Not an  _ allied  _ prince.”

 

“Excuse me?” Ash straightened up suddenly, his interest suddenly piqued.

 

“Yeah,  _ just  _ the prince of the kingdom we’ve been fighting for well over a decade,” Shorter said with mock boredom, but unable to not break a smirk.

 

“According to what Shorter overheard, he’s coming for peace negotiations,” another person piped in, “Apparently 20 is ‘ _ of age’ _ now by his kingdom’s standards, so he’s going around trying to shake things up and has made it his goal as  _ ‘heir apparent _ ’ to end all this endless fighting. He’s coming to try to end the war.”

 

Ash laughed, “You’re right, Dino  _ is _ probably mentioning it nonstop. He has no idea the racketeers that  _ really  _ run the show here.” Of course, Ash didn’t  _ like _ that things were this way, but what he said was true and not worth going against. At least not now, when he had no upper hand to attempt to do anything.

 

“Which of course, if something were to  _ happen  _ to the heir apparent of the kingdom we’re fighting during attempted peace missions...”

 

“Poor kid,” Ash frowned, leaning back with his hands behind his head, “He has no idea that it would be a suicide mission.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to deal with topics respectfully. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Edit: Yes, Youssis is Yut Lung. It's the name he used when he pretended to be Dawson's son in canon. It will be explained later!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being a good guy doesn’t help you survive in this world,” Ash shrugged, “If you’re weak and idealistic, you get killed. If you’re strong and pragmatic you survive. That’s just how it is. I don't like it, but…”
> 
> “You’re not wrong I guess,” Shorter leaned back in his chair to contemplate this, “Still…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! More mentions of Eiji! More hints of how the plot will go! thanks

Dinner was steak and potatoes, one of Dino’s favorite meals. It was comprised of beef from a farmland quite far away, yet still immediately brought to his estate directly after being butchered. Meat was incredibly expensive to most during the war, but that wasn’t a deterrent to the rich and powerful who could still so easily afford it.

 

“Feeling better?” Dino asked as Ash entered the dining room. He had switched his outfit to a more formal one as per the old man’s request, which was just as well given it would help him hide that his earlier outfit was dirty.

 

“I’ll be fine,” he answered emotionlessly as he sat down at his place. He cut into the steak. It was disgustingly rare, Ash preferring medium well. But then, he was never really one for beef in general.

 

“We missed you at the meeting today. Quite a few important discussions,” Youssis smiled with his wickedly fake grin. He wore an elegant evening gown and sat eating with the politeness of a lady, wiping his face with his embroidered handkerchief.

 

“Well,” Ash poked at his potatoes, “If it’s important, wouldn't you be able to just tell me now?” He kept his face neutral, not at all letting go what he had heard in the square.

 

“Being knowledgeable on the ends and outs of our meetings is a privilege for those who attend,” Dino told him.

 

“I didn’t feel well,” Ash protested with a frown, trying to hold in his frustrations.

 

“Then attend when you  _ do _ feel well,” was all Dino had to say. The conversation was over.

 

So the next day, Ash made it an effort to go to the meeting. He brushed back his hair, washed his face, and put on one of his more appropriate outfits for the occasion. It had been quite a while since he had attended one, so he knew that it was especially important for him to have the best of appearances, as annoying as it was. For once, he actually  _ wanted _ to know what was going on in the usually dry, boring, and deeply unethical meetings.

 

There were annoying formalities at the start. It was located in Dino’s specific meeting room that always felt overly stuffy to Ash. A maid came and served everyone wine as well as small horderves that were of course ridiculously expensive to prepare. There were a number of people of great importance to the kingdom, from businessmen to dukes to military men, so despite the frequency of meetings, no expenses were ever held back. Youssis sat in as well, dressed in a comparatively more masculine outfit, as he generally did for these sorts of things.

 

“Ash, your presence has been missing for quite some time now,” one man said. Ash merely gave back a robotic formal response, apologizing for his lack of attendance as of late. Dino naturally wouldn't explain the situation if he wanted to elevate Ash, and of course Ash wouldn't mention the trouble he's been in either.

 

From that, the meeting officially came to a start. In the beginning, it was incredibly dull as per usual. People uninterestingly droning on about the state of the war, of trade, of the economy. Most of which things Ash couldn’t care less about. As they continued on about trade routes for gunpowder, part of him began to wonder if Shorter was mistaken or fed false information. He tried to stay as attentive and well-postured, but it was dreadfully boring that he couldn’t help but slouch in the leather chair before too long. At least it was comfortable.

 

“Now, onto our pesky little prince,” Dino finally said with a cordial smile. Immediately, Ash straightened up. It was a bit too sudden and noticeable, leading Dino to laugh at his action. “I’ve forgotten, my dear boy Ash hasn’t heard the news yet. Isn’t that right, my boy?”

 

“Yes,” Ash managed. He wasn't sure if his response was the most believable, but Dino didn't seem to question it.

 

“Then if it would not be a burden to the others, I shall catch you up to speed,” he said with a sly smirk. 

 

“By all means,” one man said. Other men expressed their agreement as well. Dino’s original statement was rhetorical, of course. No one would argue against Dino and claim something he did was a burden. Except perhaps Ash, which was what often led him into much of the trouble he’d find himself in.

 

“Splendid,” he told them, “Then my dear Ash, I have quite fascinating news I had been quite excited for you to hear. It is still sensitive information that cannot be repeated, as I'm sure you will respect, but it seems our quaint little kingdom is going to have quite the visitor in the coming weeks.”

 

“Oh?” Ash asked, pretending to have his interest only mildly piqued, hiding the fact that his heart rate was rising and chest pounding.

 

“A little prince is going to make an official visit,” he continued, “And not just  _ any _ little prince, but the Crown Prince Eiji Okumura.”

 

Even before Shorter mentioned him, Ash had heard his name spoken many times before. He was a young, idealistic prince of the kingdom that they had been warring with for so long. Well young relatively, he was a couple years older than Ash. On the other hand, the king had been sick in bed, slowly dying from an unknown illness for many years now. Convenient for the members of the meeting, allowing a puppet government in line with Dino and like minded powers that be. 

 

It was known for a while now that young Prince Eiji objected to the war, but being underage (20 in his kingdom) he had little say. There were attempts at swaying his mind, manipulating the young prince into having hatred for the kingdom that which his own had lost so many to in the seemingly endless war. Yet no matter how many staged terrorist attacks, how many pretend attempts at the royal family’s life, the death counts or damaged lands from the war, his resolve never seemed to sway. He merely argued that said violence was more of a sign that peace was necessary, and that the enemies were suffering as well. For that reason, Ash had heard many the discussion of having the prince assassinated before now. It would double in both getting him “out of the way” as well as creating reason to prolong the war. Yet as it was, it simply wasn’t worth the effort. 

 

Now that the boy was 20, he was finally of age. His father was still alive and, although he was heavily weakened and in no place to rule, until he breathed his last breath he would remain king. Out of respect, Eiji did not wish for his father to abdicate the throne nor to take his place until his father's last breath. Yet now that he was old enough to officially take on governmental duties, he suddenly was, in a large way, a de facto king. He did not have the end all say as a real king would, of course, but from the day he turned 20, suddenly he outranked the entirety of the puppet government that had previously kept everything in check. Of course the puppet government would have greatly enjoyed taking him out, but killing their crown prince without the most perfect way of framing it on another kingdom would be extraordinarily difficult and risky.

 

“Yet now the foolish young boy is coming right here to our own kingdom,” Dino’s wicked grin widened, “Naively thinking that he will gain peace, he will instead help us extend the war ten fold.”

 

“So what’s the plan?” Ash asked, “When he gets here what are you going to do? Shoot him clean through the head or something?”

 

“Of course not,” Dino laughed, “Too messy. We are unsure of our exact plan of action, but we will need to make sure it is both sly for us and unforgivable for them. It can’t simply be an execution, those sorts of things are all too common, not to mention our king will promptly denounce it. No, we need to make sure it is something that lets the Okumura family know that they can never trust our kingdom again.”

 

“And you're still unsure just what that would be?” Ash narrowed his eyebrows.

 

“With your brilliant mind and nact for strategy, we are hoping you will be of help with that.”

 

\---

 

“You were right,” Ash told Shorter. He was at his restaurant--freely this time as Dino had rewarded him for his good behavior by allowing him to leave the estate. The restaurant was closed between lunch and dinner, allowing them privacy—with the exception of Shorter’s sister Nadia.

 

“I usually am,” Shorter smirked, taking a seat next to him, “But over what specifically? The prince?”

 

“What else?” he asked. Nadia wordlessly poured boys a cup of tea each. She was a smart young woman who didn’t exactly  _ approve _ of Shorter’s underground associations, yet she was trustworthy nonetheless. She cared about her brother’s safety more than anything, meaning even if she didn’t  _ like _ it, she would never share things that would get him in any sort of trouble. She also had grown to care for Ash, thanking him for being a good friend to her brother. Ash was unsure if he really could agree with her idea of him, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

 

“So what?” Shorter laughed as he picked up his cup of tea, “The second he walks in is there gonna be some explosion at the gate?”

 

“That’s basically what I asked,” Ash answered, taking a sip from his own cup, “But no, that’s not good enough. It can’t just be some run of the mill assassination that our kingdom can denounce and give their _‘deepest_ _condolences’_ for. It has to be something that would absolutely wreck any sort of trust between our kingdoms forever.”

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“They still haven’t decided.”

 

“Ha, poor kid doesn't know what he's getting himself into,” Shorter wiped the tea from his upper lip, “Regardless of what they go with, I'm sure it's going to be brutal. What are you planning on doing?”

 

“There’s not much I really  _ can _ do,” Ash shrugged, “I obviously don’t like the war, but even if this Eiji kid wasn’t assassinated...it’s a wasted effort on his part. The war isn’t going to end any time soon, and it’s pointless to try and resist it right now.”

 

“You’re not going to try and help him?”

 

“Why should I? Even if he didn’t come here, Dino and his people would have had him killed anyway,” Ash shrugged, “Like you said, he’s too naive and stubborn. They’ve wanted him dead for years, so if he didn’t come now right into their hands,?they’d have just taken him out later in some other situation anyway. He’s been a dead man walking for years.”

 

“So what are you going to do?”

 

Ash sighed, “I guess I have no option but to help Dino. As I said, the war is never going to end, the prince is destined to be taken out, but if I manage to put in a good strategy and help out...it would really help give me an advantage.”

 

“That’s cold.”

 

“One day I’ll have the upper advantage and take him down,” Ash frowned, “But until then I have to play by his rules.”

 

“I see,” Shorter took a long sip from his tea, “But it really sucks for the prince. Seems like a good guy.”

 

“Being a good guy doesn’t help you survive in this world,” Ash shrugged, “If you’re weak and idealistic, you get killed. If you’re strong and pragmatic you survive. That’s just how it is. I don't like it, but…”

 

“You’re not wrong I guess,” Shorter leaned back in his chair to contemplate this, “Still…”

 

The clock in the restaurant rang 3. Dino would want him back within a half hour from then. He was only supposed to go out for a few hours at a time at most, and while he usually didn't listen to that, he didn't want to get on his bad side again right now.

 

“I have to go,” Ash stood up, “Don’t repeat any of this...and tell Nadia thanks for the tea.”

 

“Got it,” Shorter saluted. 

 

\---

 

_ “My little prince.” _

 

Ash awoke from his sleep in the middle of the night. It was a full moon, so it was relatively bright in his attic. A cold sweat covered his face and his chest pounding, as if he had had a horrible nightmare. It was a common occurrence for him. After all that he had been through, dreams often brought reminders of the terrible things he had been through. When not memories, of terrible things he imagined happening.

 

Yet this time was different. He had dreamt of something that  _ shouldn’t _ have frightened him.

 

He turned on the kerosene lamp next to his bed to further light his attic and walked over to the wash bin. He washed off his face much as he usually did whenever he woke up in the middle of the night. He wasn’t sure how much it helped in reality, but the cold water was something at least. With a sigh, he walked over to the window, sitting upon the windowsill to have a look at the night sky, in hopes that it would help clear his mind.

 

He had next to nothing from his old life. He hardly brought anything with him the day he left, and even if he did, it would have merely been confiscated. His entire identity was erased. The little boy named Aslan who lived at the tavern near the seaside was dead, replaced by this Ash who was...whatever he could consider himself now.

 

The only thing he did have from his old life were his letters from Griff. He hid them carefully, knowing full well Dino would burn them in front of him if they were ever found. He was Ash now. Griff was probably dead. Dino would be extraordinarily angry if he knew he held onto something like that from his old life.

 

Part of Ash thought Dino was right, but for the wrong reasons. It was careless for him to hold onto such a thing. He hadn’t read them in so long, knowing that it would just open the old wounds. It would just remind him of the time he was happy and hopeful, a time he couldn’t go back to.

 

Still, for the first time in a long time, he found himself bending down and moving the loose floorboard apart. He stuck in a piece of paper between the gap to bring up the papers that were hidden there. They had faded to a deeper yellow color due to time and he wasn’t sure if the ink had faded or gotten wet. Nonetheless, he carefully unfolded the first letter.

 

_ My Prince, _

 

_ I am making great strides in defending our kingdom from all that wish to harm it, gaining many close allies along the way. They are all amazed to hear the story of the young prince far away by the seaside, and wish to meet you someday. I think about you every day, and how I am doing this all for you, for your safety. I hope you are doing well and adjusting to life without me while on your best behavior. I will come home as soon as I can. _

 

_ Your valiant knight, _

_ Griff _

 

A tear fell down Ash’s cheek. He hadn’t even realized that he was crying until he felt it fall down his face and onto the paper. The last words he ever heard from his brother’s mouth were declaring him prince of his family. That little Aslan was a prince, and that he had to see to protecting his family.

 

What family? Jennifer was dead, Griff was still probably dead, and his father probably couldn’t care less that he was missing. Of course, Griff’s words didn’t actually mean anything, he was only playing pretend to comfort a little boy. He was never the prince of anything and never would be. All the fairytales and pretend he imagined as a child only filled his head with nonsense.

 

In reality, being a prince wasn’t probably such a great job, anyway. Afterall, this hopeful and naive Prince Eiji was going to try and bring peace and protect everyone, only to find himself killed and elongating the war ten fold. In a way, it reminded Ash of himself. 

 

In fairytales, princes were always brave and smart. They would save everyone. They would save those distress, find themselves a beautiful princess or handsome prince to marry. They had agency. They always won.

 

Did Prince Eiji think he was like that? Does he not realize that real life isn’t like some fairytale? What, did he expect to come to the warring kingdom and be welcomed with open arms? Did he think that he would sit at a long table with the local monarchy and discuss peace agreements, then going home to a parade in his honor celebrating the end of the war? Maybe he even though he’d even find himself a princess to bring back.

 

It was then that an idea clicked with Ash.

 

\---

 

“Say again?” one of the men—a duke if Ash remembered correctly•asked at the meeting the next day.

 

“Am I wrong?” Ash leaned forward in his most deviously professional voice, “The best way to make an alliance that will last is to have a royal wedding.”

 

The man frowned. “Yes, but if you are somehow unaware, we don’t  _ want _ —”

 

“Let him speak,” Dino interrupted, “You will find that my dear Ash has quite the mind. I’m sure he’s going somewhere with this.”

 

“Yes,” Ash nodded, “What I’m saying is, if the eligible prince wants to make peace, then he should try to marry within our kingdom. Have him do that, send them both back to their own kingdom and have his new spouse kill him. Show them that it was all a trap, taking his trust and now having a traitor ruler officially in their royal family. More than just killing him, it’s incredibly cruel, something that they are unlikely to forgive and goes beyond just a normal assassination.”

 

“You are truly a devil,” the duke raised an eyebrow. Dino merely laughed.

 

Truth be told, the idea was incredibly sickening to Ash. He too found it incredibly cruel, unfair to the prince. Ash wanted peace more than anyone, but he knew that quite frankly that wasn’t going to happen with Dino and company in charge. The prince was as good as dead anyway, so he might as well cooperate to stay in Dino’s favor until the day he could have leverage and both defeat and be free of him for good.

 

“Who do you suppose the person to marry him should be?” another man piped in.

 

“We have quite a few eligible princesses, don’t we?” Ash asked.

 

“ _ Princesses _ yes,” he confirmed, “But word is, Prince Eiji has no interest in... _ princesses _ , so to speak. The king has no sons except for his eldest, our  _ own _ crown prince.”

 

“Youssis then,” Ash shrugged.

 

“Excuse me?” Youssis stood up with a glare on his face.

 

“Why not?” Ash asked him, “He doesn’t have to marry someone royal for it to be a meaningful alliance. You like the noble life that you could experience with him. You’re not against slitting someone’s throat in their sleep. I’m sure our people could make sure you get back safely.”

 

He wasn’t sure if they could realistically get Youssis back safely. He didn’t really care.

 

“Quite the idea,” Dino smiled, “We will definitely consider it. At the very least, we should offer up the notion of him marrying one from our kingdom to both monarchies. 

 

“I will address it with the king immediately,” the duke responded.

 

“I will contact the Okumura household as well,” said another man who Ash recognized as being from the Okumura court.

 

“Youssis?” Dino asked.

 

Youssis’s scowl faded into a neutral expression. “Whatever is requested of me, Monsieur.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eiji will show up very soon <3
> 
> Please kudos/subscribe if you're enjoying this! Let me know your thoughts in the comments! <3
> 
> Next chapter is about half done, so hopefully it won't be long.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do you put yourself in such risky situations all the time?” Ibe asked him with a groan, “You give the entire kingdom a heart attack half the time.”
> 
> Eiji pulled himself up onto his horse. “I don’t know what you mean. Just riding my horse isn’t dangerous.”
> 
> “Eiji, you know exactly what I mean,” the older man frowned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all thank you for all your support thus far! I have been somewhat nervous over how people will interpret some of my bolder choices, so I'm incredibly happy to hear your feedback!
> 
> So...Eiji! I decided to keep everything vague European fairytale/Once Upon a Time setting and not make Eiji's kingdom Japan-based. I'm also borrowing heavily from Fly Boy. If you haven't read the short story please do!

“Ei-chan,” a voice groaned.

 

Two men, one a handful or so years older than the other, stood at the grounds of the royal stables. It just so happened that these stables were one of Prince Eiji’s favorite places in the whole castle grounds. He tended to not care for any of his princely duties, with all the politics and official greetings. If he had it his way, he would get rid of all of that and merely spend his days riding his horse

 

“Yes?” Eiji asked the older man, taking off his heavy formal waistcoat and putting on the saddle on the back of his favorite horse. It was a grey, white, and black horse with a l that Eiji had been gifted when he was merely a child and  it merely a foal. He had been thrilled with the present, quickly naming it Nori and immediately requesting riding lessons. 

 

At first, he was put on one of his father’s horses, as Nori was still too young. The first time he sat upon a horse was a moment he could never forget. It was scary at first, but once he realized he could hold on and wouldn’t fall, it felt exhilarating. He couldn’t wait until Nori was old enough for them to ride together. Until then, he helped feed Nori all the vegetables he could in hopes it would help him grow big and strong. By the time Nori had grown old enough to ride, Eiji was already a competent rider, the two able to run fast along the palace grounds, much to the fear of his handmaidens who doted on him.

 

Once he was confident riding, he requested to learn how to do jumps.

 

At first, the king and queen refused. Jumping was far too dangerous. It was a sport the royal family loved to observe, but for the crown prince to partake in such activities was much too risky. What if he snapped his neck? It had happened to one of the best equestrian competitors in the kingdom not all that long ago. Even more, it was very common for bones to be broken, which would put the little prince out of commission of his duties for who knew how long.

 

The little prince did not take that for an answer. He had begged and begged to everyone he could, from his parents to ladies in waiting to his tutors to  _ anyone _ who could hear him. He wanted to jump, to fly in the air on his trusty horse. It felt like his soul  _ needed _ it, like it was what he was  _ meant _ to do.

 

Which wasn’t to say that the young prince  _ usually _ whined. Despite being a crown prince from birth with the entire kingdom at his disposal, he tended to ask for very little. He was a very polite, shy, and soft spoken boy by every regards. It was his younger sister that tended to be the one who made demands for things, but not Prince Eiji. By all accounts, he was a good, respectful boy who didn’t throw temper tantrums even from a young age. If it weren’t for his lack of interest in his princely studies, he was a young prince any kingdom could hope for. 

 

So for that reason, young Eiji begging and begging to be allowed to jump seemed out of character for the young prince. If he was told no, he usually accepted the answer and moved on. Yet for weeks on end he refused to relent. He didn’t throw a temper tantrum, screaming to get his way, but instead politely begged and begged.

 

Finally, the King and Queen relented. They called for the best (and safest) instructor in the entire kingdom to personally instruct Eiji. Of course at a young age and given his status, they started slow and low. He was a quick learner, however, and was soon revealed that he was quite skillful at equestrian jumping. As the years went on, by the time he reached his teen years, he was skillful enough to compete in competitions. Naturally, he made sure he only qualified based on his own ability and was scored fairly--he didn’t want any sort of biases given his status whatsoever. He was a kind prince who would not reprimand anyone for losing. 

 

The judges scored him fairly. He did well. Very well. Yet he never could manage to win first place.

 

He still didn’t want biased scoring, but he wanted very much to win. To do this,  he trained and trained even harder and longer. When his father, the King, suddenly fell very ill, Eiji found himself going to the stables and track more and more to keep his mind off things. He placed the fences higher and higher, even more than was recommended by his instructor. He had made it his goal to win, to  _ deserve _ to win.

 

That is, up until two years ago. He lost his competition to the same man he always did. No matter how hard Eiji tried, he just couldn’t beat him. He put forth the resolve to train even  _ harder _ , finding himself putting up even more fence in his personal training area when he snuck to the stables alone. He knew it was risky, but he did it anyway.

 

And ultimately, he failed. He fell off his horse, instantly breaking a number of bones in his body.

 

It took some time for him to be found, given that he was at the stable alone and couldn’t stand on his snapped leg to get help. After a while, the whole palace scrambled to find the missing prince. Eventually Shuichi Ibe, his most loyal advisor, had figured that perhaps he had run off to the stables. He was right and found the young prince clutching his leg in pain.

 

It took quite a while for him to heal. He had snapped ribs that had a risk of piercing his internal organs, leading there to be fears over whether he would be  _ able _ to heal. The entire kingdom held their breath, giving him all their thoughts and wishes. It was embarrassing to Eiji, he felt as though they should be focused on worrying about his much worse off father or all those risking their lives in the war, not he who merely fell off a horse from his own foolishness. Nonetheless, he fought through and made a complete recovery.

 

Even so, he never again. Something in him froze, unable to give the order to Nori. He wasn’t sure if it was fear of falling again or the sense of failure in his heart that made him not want to. Eventually, his instructor was politely dismissed and he had given up competing for the time being.

 

Still, he liked to visit the stables and ride on his horse normally when he could.

 

“Why do you put yourself in such risky situations all the time?” Ibe asked him with a groan, “You give the entire kingdom a heart attack half the time.”

 

Eiji pulled himself up onto his horse. “I don’t know what you mean. Just riding my horse isn’t dangerous.”

 

“Eiji, you know exactly what I mean,” the older man frowned. Knowing that he couldn’t stop the prince from riding around, with a sigh he saddled up his own horse he had in the stables and joined him.

 

The two men rode around the track in silence. Eiji frequently preferred doing this alone, but he didn’t really mind Ibe being there. Even if he couldn’t jump or compete anymore, he found that simply riding his horse was always something that could calm him down.

 

“I think what I’m doing is right,” Eiji finally broke the silence, “Too many people on both sides are dying.”

 

“That doesn’t mean you have to go straight into enemy territory to do so,” Ibe released one hand from his horse to rub his temple, “You could send one of your diplomats or advisors--you could even just send  _ me _ .”

 

“I think this is something that should be done by the two royal families themselves,” Eiji told him, “Not third parties.”

 

“Your diplomats  _ aren’t _ third parties, Ei-chan,” he tried to explain, “That’s their  _ job _ .”

 

“I  _ know  _ what my diplomats are,” Eiji pouted. He wasn’t tutored in how to raise a kingdom practically since birth for  _ nothing _ .

 

“Then why?” he asked, “Or why not meet at a neutral place?  _ Why _ are you going head first into their capital...The capital where hundreds of people view you as nothing but the enemy? A face to project their hatred on for all that  _ they've  _ lost.”

 

Eiji trusted Ibe more than anyone. Although Ibe was a very mature man, he was in reality only seven years older than him, a fact that was often forgotten. He was Eiji’s most trusted advisor, probably the only person in the court the prince felt that way about. Nonetheless, despite the level of faith and trust he had in him, he still questioned whether he should say  _ everything _ to him.

 

“I think sending others or meeting somewhere neutral is cowardly,” he shrugged, “Meeting them there shows that I’m serious.”

 

That was partially true. What he left out, however, was that his lack of willingness to send others was due to his inability to fully and completely trust them. Not Ibe, but everyone surrounding him. Ibe wouldn’t tell anyone, but he would think that he was overly paranoid at best, outright crazy at worst.

 

Eiji believed that his own court was compromised. He didn’t know who or how, but he felt as if there were people who were intentionally sabotaging the kingdom, intentionally keeping the war going on long, long after it could have easily ended. As if there was some deep conspiracy controlling everything in every kingdom. If he sent his diplomats, who was to say whether they weren’t the ones compromised? 

 

“Eiji, please just be careful and think this through,” Ibe begged, “The kingdom loves you and wants you safe. We already had a scare with you, and you saw how much that affected the entirety of the kingdom. We can’t lose you. It would break the kingdom.”

 

He knew he might die. He knew it could be a trap. He naturally didn't want to die and the mission did scare him quite a lot, but he knew if there was any hope of doing anything, going himself and speaking directly to the King and Queen of the warring nation was the only way he could ever hope to accomplish peace. It was hard to build up his courage to do this, but he figured he was a prince afterall. It was his duty to at least  _ try _ .

 

He felt bad for not telling Ibe this. Maybe he  _ was _ wrong and he  _ was _ just overly paranoid and Ibe would be able to sit down and lay out why. Still, he felt keeping this to himself was the best option for the time being.

 

“Let’s go back,” Eiji finally told Ibe, ignoring his previous statement.

 

\---

 

The royal family rarely ate dinner together anymore. The King was bed bound, meaning he was fed his meals in his own room. He was rarely responsive anymore, meaning he wouldn’t be much company at dinner anyway. The Queen was said to have a lover, something that sickened Eiji quite a lot. She was frequently “away”, presumably with him. The Queen’s mother, Eiji’s grandmother, as well as his sister until recently frequently join him for dinner, but the princess would frequently whine to get out of it while Eiji’s grandmother’s own mind and health were declining rapidly.

 

For that reason, it was quite common for the prince to eat alone. He would invite survants to eat with him, but he also feared of them feeling pressure to do so. Ibe would join him sometimes, but he had a fiance of his own he could be spending time with. Eiji didn’t want Ibe to feel obliged to stay with him all the time, feeling that he should go live his own life. Tonight, however, Ibe insisted on staying.

 

The royal dining room was incredibly grand. It was a huge room littered with paintings of the royal family dating back hundreds of years. The polished wooden table painted white with intricate gold trimming was long enough to hold fifty guests. When Eiji was little, the table would frequently be filled with people. Sometimes for a grand ball, held in the lavish ballroom just down the hallway.

 

Ever since the war and especially since the King fell ill, there was practically never any of that anymore. It wasn’t that they couldn’t afford it, but it was felt in poor taste to have extravagant balls when so many in the kingdom were suffering. Even on the rare occasion most of his family would come to eat a meal, the overly long table always felt incredibly empty and lonely. 

 

If Eiji was to be honest with himself, he  _ was  _ incredibly lonely. He didn’t really have any friends his own age, others always treating him too formally as their prince and not as a person. Ibe was fine, but even if he wasn’t  _ that _ much older, he felt more like a father figure to him than a friend. Eiji recognized that these feelings were him being silly and selfish, there were others dying in the line of war on his behalf while he sat in a palace full of privilege. He thought he had no right to complain.

 

He wondered what it was like where he was going. They weren’t always the enemies--once oh so long ago their King and Queen had visited the palace to celebrate the birth of his baby sister. They had seemed like kind enough people then, so it didn’t make much sense to his child mind at the time why suddenly they had to go to war. To be fair, even as an adult now the reasons for this war  didn’t make all that much sense to him. 

 

“We’ve been discussing the arrangements for your visit and have decided that there isn’t going to be a formal announcement by either kingdom that you’re going,” Ibe told him as they were served their plates. It was fish, one that the royal chef knew Eiji enjoyed.

 

“Why not?” Eiji asked.

 

“Safety,” he answered, “We’ve talked this over. You’re going in as a very easy target, so we want to keep your safety as a high priority.”

 

“Very well,” Eiji replied as he took a bite. He had no complaints over this. Keeping less people from knowing meant it was less likely that saboteurs would know as well. Or, at least that was what he had hoped. 

 

“The king does have a very interesting proposition for you, though.”

 

“Oh?” Eiji asked, raising his head inquisitively.

 

“Assuming peace negotiations do go smoothly, the royal house wants to make sure the said peace is maintained,” he explained, “And I’m not sure if you’re going to like this, but...well…”

 

“You can tell me.”

 

“They feel as though a marriage uniting our kingdoms would be the best way of maintaining peace.”

 

“My sister is still too young to get married,” Eiji frowned, “And I don’t think she’d want to ever leave here. She’d never agree to it.”

 

“Not her, Ei-chan,” Ibe sighed exasperatedly, “ _ You _ .”

 

“Oh,” Eiji blushed slightly. He didn’t know why he didn’t guess that immediately.

 

“No one would force you to, of course.”

 

“We’ve been over this. Everyone knows by now I don’t want to marry a princess,” Eiji answered.

 

“I know,” Ibe frowned.

 

“I know. My sister can produce the heir. I just  _ can’t-- _ ”

 

“That’s fine,” Ibe cut him off, “They know about your preferences. If you are so willing, they said that a lesser noble would be fine. They even have a potential candidate lined up for you--”

 

“No!” Eiji responded abruptly, much to Ibe’s surprise. Eiji blushed, not meaning to come across that harsh, and quickly tried to find the words to explain himself. “I mean...no to a predetermined person. If I’m going to marry someone, I want to choose who it is. You know this.”

 

Eiji also thought it was odd that the  _ other kingdom _ argued that a lesser noble would  be okay, when he would think that said compromise would be the other way around. He never cared about bloodlines or royal matchmaking, so it wasn’t to say that it was an insult to him. He would be perfectly content marrying a commoner, for what it was worth. For that reason, he decided not to comment on that.

 

Marriage had never been the biggest concern for Eiji, which had always been much to the dismay of his court who wanted their crown prince to produce an heir. Ever since he became a teenager, had been many paintings of eligible young princesses brought to his palace for his consideration, and many more that came to the palace itself to meet him. 

 

He had briefly attempted to court a few of them, but it never lasted long. He had no interest in them, and he felt that he was just wasting their time. He had no romantic interest in  _ any _ young lady he met. There were arguments that he should just pick someone for political reasons if for nothing else, but he refused. He figured he was capable of love, it was just a matter of finding the right person. As he came closer and closer to the marrying age of 20, his royal court got more and more desperate, even going as far as to throw a ball--something that so rarely happened since the war started. Even low nobles from various kingdoms were allowed to attend.

 

It was then he found someone he was attracted to. It hit him in the gut, though he wasn’t sure which way. Was it the feeling of attraction? Or was it the  _ type of person _ he was attracted to that hit him hard? It wasn’t a lovely fair maiden, but instead a handsome prince. He was already married and there merely for diplomatic purposes, so he knew immediately it was off the table. He wouldn’t try to pursue it. He didn’t even know him, it wasn’t like he suddenly fell in love. He could live without being with him. It was a fleeting attraction, nothing more.

 

Still, it opened his eyes to why the idea of marrying any of the princesses ever felt right. It should have been obvious to him before, but he suddenly realized that the type of person he would want to marry would be a  _ prince _ .

 

Same sex marriage was perfectly acceptable within all the land. Even princes married princes, princesses with other princesses. The only problem in Eiji’s case, as the crown prince, was that he was expected to produce an heir. For that reason, people suggested to him that he marry a woman for political reasons to produce an heir, while he could have a lover on the side. He refused, saying that would be incredibly unfair to everyone involved. He had a younger sister who, with all the men she has courted thus far, would be able to provide the next king or queen after him. 

 

With that, the push towards him marrying was a lot less strong. He wasn’t going to marry to produce an heir and he wasn’t going to marry solely for political purposes. If he was ever going to get married, it would have to be out of love. For that reason, attempts at matchmaking and finding him a spouse had come to an end for quite some time now.

 

Still, he had to consider the fact that this proposition Ibe explained wasn’t exactly the worst one. All of the previous marriage offers were to merely strengthen already stable diplomatic relations, while this one would offer the chance at mending an absolutely awful relation. It could help maintain peace, prevent further bloodshed from ever happening. 

 

“So what should your official response be?” Ibe asked. Eiji paused, pondering this some more.

 

“I’ll consider it,” he finally answered, “But only if I get to pick who. I mean, myself and the other person. If  _ either  _ of us don’t want to get married, I won’t do it.”

 

“And how would you want this to go? You and the other person mutually deciding, I mean.” 

 

Eiji thought some more. “If it wouldn’t trouble them, they could put on a ball like we’ve had here?”

 

“Balls are expensive, and I’m not sure if they would want to put one on without the confirmation that you would choose someone.”

 

“Then it could officially be a peace pall,” Eiji suggested, “It doesn't have to be just for me. It can be a celebration of us coming together that doubles as that.”

 

“If that’s what you want, I’ll pass your answer along.”

 

\---

 

A few days later, Eiji prepared to leave.

 

He was going to travel lightly with a very minimal entourage in order to be as inconspicuous as possible traveling through enemy territory. They wouldn’t announce he was coming, so as long as he was able to blend in, he should be alright he figured. No one was looking for him, so it would hopefully be very easy for him to blend in as a commoner. 

 

Still, it was hard to explain this to his servants as they helped him pack. He appreciated them, and it came from a place of trying to take care and spoil him, but they didn’t seem to understand the idea that he couldn't take all of his best princely clothes. Some sure, ones he would pack away and save for once he arrived and ad official business. They shuddered as they dressed him in drab commoner clothes and scrambled around to try and find more to pack away for his journey. 

 

He looked at himself in the mirror. He almost couldn’t recognize himself. His whole life he had worn the finest attire worthy of a prince. Even his riding outfits were crafted by the best seamstresses and, despite his objections, had princely embellishments. None of that now. No stupid crown that always liked to slide off his head. No tight stockings that he thought always felt and looked ridiculous. No stiff, heavy, overly embellished waistcoat with epaulettes that felt like bricks on his shoulders. No tight collars that always choked him.

 

Instead, he wore a far less heavy and layered outfit that was far more comfortable. Being that it was commoner clothing not specifically tailored for him, parts of it were loose and didn’t fit perfectly. Sure, the fabric wasn’t silk or velvet, but instead a plain cotton button up top complete with a dark blue wool vest and matching pants. His annoyingly tight shoes replaced with knee high boots that were slightly loose around his toes.

 

He didn’t look  _ poor _ by any means, but he looked...normal. Like anyone else in the kingdom. He smiled.

 

“I love it.”

 

He was to leave late at night to further be under the radar. He paid his respects to his unresponsive father, the king. He visited his grandmother in her chambers, who embraced him tightly, even if Eiji wasn’t entirely sure if she knew just what was going on. His mother and sister also wished him farewell with dignified curtsies. His sister couldn’t help but crack a joke at his commoner clothing, but Eiji couldn’t be bothered to care.

 

Ibe was going with him, along with two knights in disguise for protection and one of his most trusted handmaidens who had raised him from birth. A few others from the kingdom were also to come, but they would not travel together. They had a small, commoner carriage, though Eiji himself was to travel on the back of his beloved horse. 

 

As they left the palace gates in the dark of night, it hit Eiji that there was no going back. He was setting forth on a mission that would change the course of two kingdoms. It was on him and him alone to stop the endless bloodshed between two kingdoms. It was a mission he was very well aware could cost him his life.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a Twitter now! Follow me @wintergrew 
> 
> As always, kudos/comments/subs are heavily appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Includes a scene I know you guys have waited for.
> 
> Feel free to follow my Twitter or Tumblr, both also wintergrew

It was a sunny day in the town square. There were rumors of a ball coming up that had sparked the attention of much of the population, including speculation on what it could possibly be for. It wasn’t close to the birthday of any of the royal family. Perhaps an engagement? A victory in the war? Something else?

 

Of course, Ash already knew exactly what the purpose of the ball was.

 

Although Dino and company were happy enough that the plan Ash came up with was going forward, having a ball to find Prince Eiji a potential suitor wasn't exactly what they wanted. They had initially planned to have an arranged marriage between Youssis and the prince. Simple and quick—the old fashioned way the nobility loved to do it. However, apparently Prince Eiji was a picky one. He refused to marry for political gains alone, wanting instead to marry for love. He had many a potential hand in marriage offered to him, but refused all of them. Still, his kingdom insisted the fact that he was open to the idea at all was a good sign from the finicky young prince, and that if there was to be, say, a grand ball celebrating the peace between the two kingdoms, perhaps he might find the right person.

 

This would pose more of a challenge for Youssis. He had the advantage of being of legitimate noble blood, making his eligibility legitimate. He was, after all, a gift from his family to Dino as a sort of peace offering. Even if he wasn't, he carried himself much like a noble should. He was beautiful, intelligent, charming, and incredibly manipulative. Given his experiences, he was a good candidate in terms of trying to seduce Prince Eiji. It was just a matter of making sure that Youssis became everything that the prince wanted in a partner so that he would be bound to fall in love with him.

 

The fact that they were going to have to play with the prince’s genuine emotions, as opposed to a simply set up political marriage, did make Ash feel more disgusted by the situation. Still, the plans were set in motion, and there was nothing he could really do about it anymore. Youssis was to seduce the prince and become his betrothed. If his attempts seemed fruitless, Youssis would poison his drink at the ball. Although not as ideal, it was decided that being assassinated at a ball celebrating peace wouldn't be the worst backup plan.

 

If Youssis  _ did _ succeed, however, he would go back to Eiji’s kingdom. They would have a grand wedding for all to see. Then on their wedding night, Youssis would slit his new husband's throat and flee into the night with the help of insiders before anyone would know something happened.

 

Ash wasn't sure how he was capable of helping with a sick, twisted plan. He tried not to dwell on it, to stay numb to it all. More than anything, he tried to not think of the prince as a person. When he arrives, he hoped he'd never have to see him, to never have a face to the life he was ruining.

 

He was just one person, after all. Thousands of people died senselessly every day. Many people directly died due to the decisions Ash had been forced to come up with in those sickening meetings. It hurt his soul more than being forced to sell his body did. Yet, nonetheless, he didn't have a choice. Prince Eiji was just one person. His princely title shouldn't make him special. He was no more important than any random soldier killed.

 

He had hoped coming to the town square would distract him from his internal struggle. Clearly that wasn't happening. With a sigh, he wandered to a fruit stand in the market and tossed the old lady a coin for an apple.

 

He liked apples, he thought to himself as he took a big bite. He liked eating fruit by itself, instead of cooked in some overly complicated and pretentious recipe. He remembered when he was little his brother taking him to an apple orchard, how the two of them filled multiple baskets of them, having apples every day for weeks.

 

That was sure a different train of thought, which was what his goal was. But perhaps one that was no better. Sometimes he wondered if it would be better if he couldn’t think at all. No terrible memories, no longing for the few good ones, no incessant guilt for all the things he had both been forced and chosen to do. His mind always seemed to run a hundred miles a minute, never stopping, never giving him a break. He tried his hardest to detach himself emotionally, to send his mind somewhere far away, but at quieter times like this, he would sometimes feel all the emotions and troubles he faced catching up to him.

 

He told himself that he just had to stick to what he was doing and eventually he would find an out and become free, but it seemed like the opening would never come. Perhaps it never would.

 

That was definitely a dangerous way of thinking.

 

It was busier than usual in the town square. Cheerful people coming and going without a care in the world. People on the streets buying from the fruit stands like he did, busy people with their carts and carriages making their way down the narrow road. It was strange to Ash how content they were, how they didn’t seem to have any care in the world. The war barely touched them but even so, they were so unaware of how the world truly worked. It was a blissful ignorance he longed for.

 

Said blissful ignorance was especially clear on the face of one boy he saw in the square. He appeared to be younger than Ash, but he could only guess that it was significantly heightened by the wide eyed gaze he had. His clothes, although simple, were clearly of a very high craftsmanship implying he had wealth, though he had never seen him around the town square nor with anyone Dino was in proxemics to, so he could only guess that he was probably new or just visiting. Perhaps a wealthy boy from a manor in the distant countryside coming to visit the capitol on holiday.

 

Still, the wide eyed look of wonder he had towards the market was very odd to Ash. He took notice to a stand of hanging fish and picked up tiny melons at another, as though he had never seen such a thing before. Hadn’t they markets like this in any countryside? Even in the small seaside village he grew up in they did. Sure, it was much smaller or quieter, but they were still, as far as he knew, a universal constant.

 

He was probably some rich boy who was the head of the estate of some farming village and never left his manor. Things were probably just handed to him, much like with Dino. Dino or Youssis would never be caught dead shopping around in a  _ peasant  _ marketplace, one of the reasons why Ash’s rebellious spirit came so much. He wasn’t sure what he thought about some rich boy treating it as some tourist attraction, though. On the one hand, the fact he was interested in it and wanted to see how the “others” lived did sound better than those who strayed away from it out of it being “beneath” them. On the other, it could be that he treated living “beneath” himself as a sort of fun exercise, without any regard for people who lived it on a daily basis.

 

To be fair, as someone who lived in a grand estate and didn’t  _ need _ to come here, the very same questions could be asked about himself. Though of course, with Ash it could be taken into consideration that he wasn’t some privileged young man born with a silver spoon. He was a prostitute, and even though he was groomed and taught to be like one of high status, that fact still, in the eyes of anyone who knew, made him the lowest of the low in society. He decided not to dwell on it. 

 

Still, with the boy’s wide eyes and almost glowing expression, he found it hard to imagine he had any ill intent. The lack of self awareness as he bought more and more random things, filling his arms until he couldn’t carry any more without any discernible concern for how much any of it cost only confirmed Ash’s suspicions about him. He wondered if the boy was  _ trying _ to make himself obvious.

 

It was getting late in the afternoon, anyway. He should be getting back before Dino got angry with him. He finished up the last bites of the apple and threw the core next to one of the many little trees that grew parallel to the main road. The rich tourist boy didn’t really matter and he would probably never see him again, anyway.

 

Before he could look away, however, he saw the boy, now directly on the other side of the road from him, drop one of the oranges he carried, rolling into the busy traffic. It wasn’t a surprise, his head barely even poked out from the large armful of various things he carried. What did surprise Ash, however, was that instead of letting it go, the boy quickly ran towards it, with no regard for the horses, carts, and carriages that were going up and down the street.

 

“Hey!” Ash called out. What was he thinking? He was going to get hit trying to get that stupid orange, which was an especially reckless action given that he had bought so much that it was obvious just buying another one would be no issue for him. Still, the boy didn’t seem to hear Ash’s call, still heading right into the busy street as a speeding carriage headed right for him. Luckily, Ash was only a couple yards away from him, so he was able to quickly rush over and grab him by the arm.

 

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” he called out once more as he pulled him out of the way moments before the carriage would have hit him. He had to yank the unexpecting boy hard, causing all that he was carrying to fly everywhere. Ash fell backwards into the the footpath, the boy on top of him. He wasn’t heavy, but he was heavier than he looked, so it wasn’t exactly a comfortable fall--it knocked the wind out of him.

The boy, his wide eyes now in shock, quickly scrambled off of him and offered a hand to help Ash up. Ash frowned, but he took it. Thankfully, he didn’t rush back into the street to get everything the fell into it.

 

“I would have gotten hit,” the boy said, “You just saved my life.”

 

His voice wasn’t what Ash expected. It had an accent, further proving his theory that he wasn’t from here. Yet somehow, his voice didn’t scream aristocracy, it wasn’t with the same pretentious air about it that people in power always seemed to have regardless of accent. It was a voice that was surprisingly...sweet. Still, that was besides the matter.

 

“You shouldn’t have run head first into busy traffic,” Ash frowned as he stood up, brushing off the dirt from his pants, “Do they not have roads where you’re from?”

 

“What do you mean ‘ _ Where I’m from _ ’?” the boy asked innocently yet with some level of concern in his big doe eyes, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. He truly was naive.

 

Ash couldn’t help but chuckle. “What, are you trying to pretend like you’re some everyday resident of this town?”

 

“Who is to say I’m not?” he asked. It wasn’t an accusatory question, it was asked with the same childlike innocence.

 

Ash raised an eyebrow, “Should I make a list?”

 

“Okay!” he answered. Not the answer Ash expected. Ash furrowed his brows.

 

“Well for one, your accent isn’t from around here.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t think about that,” the boy pondered, putting a finger on his mouth, “I should have practiced that better.”

 

“For another, the way you’re dressed.”

 

“The way I’m  _ dressed _ ?” he asked incredulously, frowning in disappointment, “I went out of my way to get as simple of clothes as possible.”

 

“Simple doesn’t mean _ cheap _ , you know,” Ash explained, “It’s still made of finer cloth and by an apt seamstress. Anyone with an eye for those things can tell right away. You also aren’t subtle in this being your first time here. I watched you spend money like you have an unlimited supply of it. You also looked around like you’ve never seen a market before--do you not have them where you’re from?”

 

“We do, I’ve just...never been,” the other explained. Ash couldn’t help but smirk in amusement. This kid really was a spoiled one. Probably never had a trying day in his life. Still, it was getting later and later in the afternoon and he  _ should _ be back already, so he didn’t have any more time to spend figuring out this odd boy.

 

“Well,” Ash stretched his lower back that had grown slightly painful from the fall, “Now you have. This isn’t your mansion, you’re going to have to watch out for yourself.” He gave the big eyed boy a half hearted nod and turned away to go back to Dino’s estate.

 

“Wait!” the boy called out just after he turned away.

 

“Hm?” Ash asked, turning his head back.

 

“I’m really thankful for you saving my life,” his face turned slightly red, “Will I see you again?”

 

“Who can say,” Ash shrugged, “I guess it depends on how long you plan on sticking around and if we happen to be in the same place at the same time again. There are a lot of people here, so the odds aren’t the highest, though.”

 

“I see,” he looked disappointed, “But could I at least have your name?”

 

“Ash.”

 

“Thank you, Ash,” he smiled, “I’m Ei---uh, Ei... _ chan _ . Eichan.”

 

“Eichan?” Ash raised an eyebrow. That was definitely a unique name. But then he found that many of the wealthy tended to give their children unique names for whatever reason.

 

“Yeah,” he blushed, “Anyway, I hope to see you again...Ash.”

 

“Sure,” Ash nodded. With that, he continued on his way, leaving the strange boy-- _ Eichan _ , behind.

 

\---

 

As expected, Dino wasn’t pleased with how late Ash was in returning home. He wasn’t enraged, thankfully, but he had a stern look of disapproval as he told Ash to join him for an afternoon tea with Youssis after he cleaned up and put on more proper clothes. It wasn’t a regular occurance for the three to have tea together, but it wasn’t a rarity either. 

 

When Ash made his way to the tea room, he saw Youssis already dressed and pretty, daintily sipping his tea with an unreadable expression. He completely ignored Ash’s presence as he entered. Ash didn’t really care, so he simply took his seat as a servant poured him tea.

 

“It’s been quite some time since the three of us had afternoon tea together,” Dino noted with a smug smile.

 

“Is there any reason for this?” Ash asked as he put a sugar cube in his tea, mixing it in with a silver spoon. There usually was a reason.

 

“The two of you are growing into young men,” Dino noted, “Ash has already had his eighteenth birthday.” In any other situation, that would be a normal statement. Yet given Dino’s inclination towards children, the implications made Ash feel sick. He avoided answering by taking a long sip of the tea. It was chamomile. 

 

“And you are seeking to have me married off,” Youssis stated, idly stirring his tea, “Even if it is for a greater purpose.” He raised his gaze and looked long and hard at Ash. “Yet despite the fact that Ash is older and already an adult, you haven’t even brought that up abou him.”

 

Ash was taken slightly aback. It was true, Dino didn’t ever speak of marriage regarding Ash. To be fair, it would be unlikely anyone would  _ expect _ him to. Although Youssis never fell out of Dino’s  _ disfavor _ or get in trouble as Ash frequently did, it was well known to anyone who Dino favored. Sure, he would punish Ash, but at the same time if Youssis pulled what he did, it would be likely that Dino would simply cast him out.

 

Ash never understood why it was the source of jealousy for Youssis, however. Dino disgusted him, and being in his favor meant he had to be... _ with _ him more. He didn’t understand how to Youssis, although he also was disgusted by him, he viewed being in his favor as a good thing to gain power and status--he would do  _ anything _ for power and status. Ash wondered if it was because Youssis was raised as aristocracy. He was privileged from birth, and he seeks to have what he feels is his birthright. Ash was born in a peasant village by the sea and would do anything to just have a normal life.

 

Ash also considered the fact that unlike him, Youssis was never a true prostitute. He was gifted to Dino, but he only ever remained Dino’s. He was introduced as an “esteemed guest” while there was no confusion from the beginning that Ash was a slave. Youssis’s situation was repulsive nonetheless, especially given how young he was when his brothers gifted him, but he never experienced life in a brothel, being--

 

He didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t afford to make himself upset in front of the two of them. He also decided it wasn’t a competition, that he shouldn’t compare the way they both suffered like that.

 

His mind went back to the boy today. He had such a sweet voice and innocence about him. He was untouched by all the disgusting filth of the world. Yet for some reason he didn’t find himself full of envy. He was merely grateful that there were people his age who  _ had _ an innocence, a happy life. It was silly, but even though he was just a stranger, he hoped it would remain that way for him.

 

“Ash wouldn’t be suitable for this task,” Dino announced, breaking his train of thought, “He isn’t of aristocratic blood like you are, making him automatically unqualified.” He looked onto Youssis with a very disapproving yet suspicious stare.

 

“You know,” Youssis removed the spoon from his teacup and put it aside, “If you are intending to use my real status, my real name will have to be used.”

 

“If it can’t be helped,” Dino narrowed his eyes.

 

Dino liked to have his “pets” be renamed. For situations like Ash, it often had to do with making it harder for them to be tracked down in the case that they were missing. He got his own name from after he first sold himself and tended to the fireplace, ending up getting ashes all over him. The other men found it hilarious and declared that that was to be his real name. For Youssis, there was less reason to change his name--it was more out of Dino wanting to follow his regular methodology. Also likely because of how it helped him maintain a feeling of ownership.

 

But if Dino was to present Youssis as the aristocracy he was born to, he would have to give up that right of ownership. He would have to present him as Yut Lung Lee. Ash knew that internally must drive Dino crazy--he couldn't help but crack a small smirk thinking about it.

 

“When is he arriving, anyway?” Ash asked, reaching for one of the cookies in the center of the table. They were always rock hard and bland, but not any worse than most food he was given here. As he took a bite he took a mental note that he wanted to visit his favorite bakery in the town square before long.

 

“According to our sources, in a few weeks,” Dino answered, “We don’t have too long to prepare.”

 

“That soon?” Ash raised an eyebrow, “I thought these sorts of arrangements took months or years.”

 

“The prince is...impatient.”

 

They continued to discuss a little more on what was to come, in a manner that was out of the earshot of any other accomplices. Yut Lung was to read up on Prince Eiji as much as possible, learn exactly what he liked and wanted. He was to learn the culture of his kingdom as well--knowing all the customs, faux paus, and so forth, all to make him a perfect candidate for marriage that no prince would pass up.

 

It honestly wouldn’t even be suspicious that he learned so much. It was customary in preparing potential suitors for marriages as important as this. Though, knowing that others would do the same in attempts at getting his hand, it only made it more important for them to be thorough. Anyone could figure out what sort of things his kingdom ate or that the prince apparently loved riding his horse, but only someone with deep insider knowledge could truly know who he is as a person--which thankfully they had at their disposal.

 

He was a kind boy, a spy told them at a meeting the very next day. He had the whole world at his disposal, but he never abused that fact. He treated every citizen, every servant with respect as if they were as important as he was. He would always say please and thank you, always grateful and never demanding. Yet at the same time, when he became stubborn he would become  _ very _ stubborn. Despite his kind nature, once he made up his mind, he was set. It made him hard to manipulate, which was ultimately what was going to cost him his life.

 

That talk made Ash somewhat sick. The man talking about how the young prince only ever treated him with the utmost kindness, and in turn was planning on returning the favor by breaking his heart and killing him. The utter cruelty of the situation disgusted him more and more, making him want to send his mind elsewhere when talks of this happened, though he knew that if he didn't pay attention he would only be scolded. Instead, he did his best to turn his emotions off.

 

There were many people in this world. Many amazing people had their lives tragically cut short, like presumably his brother. Many kind people would still walk the earth irrespective of this conflict, like that boy he had met the other day. To someone of his status, politics and war were likely inconsequential. There were also people who had become an irreplaceable part of his life, like Shorter or Nadia. Of course Ash still patiently waited, as hard as it seemed, for the day he would one day overcome Dino and put an end to the corruption he caused. In the meantime, he stopped need to worry about some prince from some faraway kingdom. He was one of many, many “good” people in this who would live and die without Ash ever hoping to meet them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this is a little rough, I'm quite busy and don't have a lot of time to proof read. If you find an error I can fix, I'm not offended by it being pointed out.
> 
> Also let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient! I'm pretty busy lately, but finally managed to get this out.

“Ei-chan!” Ibe called out as he ran to the door as Eiji entered. His tone was scolding and full of disapproval, but not in an angry way. Rather, the same exhausted tone Eiji had grown quite used to from him. “I’ve been worried sick about you. Where have you been all day?”

 

“I met someone,” Eiji said with a small (but very noticeably genuine) smile. Ibe and him shared a room at a local inn. A relatively shabby one as they didn’t want to stand out as particularly wealthy guests. The rest of his small entourage that came with him spread out to other locations in the capitol as to further lessen suspicions. Eiji didn’t mind the fact that the inn was cheap, peasantly, and somewhat dirty. In fact, he found this infinitely more exciting.

 

“ _ Ei-chan, _ ” Ibe rubbed his temples in frustration, “You can’t just run off with strangers while you’re in enemy land.”

 

“We’re here to make peace, aren’t we?” he frowned, putting down the things he had bought while he was out. He ended up losing most of it to the busy street, but he still had a few interesting buys. It was probably not best for the sake of argument to show them off to Ibe until he calmed down and became less full of concern and disapproval.

 

“Not  _ yet _ ,” Ibe groaned, “Not even the majority of your own close advisors know you’re here yet. I shouldn’t have listened to you in having us come long before permitted.”

 

“I want to see the kingdom for myself as a normal person,” Eiji shrugged, “As  _ Prince  _ Eiji I don’t get to do that, I just see what the nobles want me to. Others view me as my role and not for me. It’s something I never get back home.”

 

“I feel like this is less about peace and more about your own personal fantasies about the other folk.”

 

Eiji pouted, “Even so, I don’t see any harm. Isn’t it good for a ruler to know how the majority lives?”

 

“I don’t think you get how serious this is,” Ibe sat down tiredly on one of the uneven wooden chairs provided in their room next to a splintery table, “What if someone had recognized you? What if that person you say you met was actually someone who was trying to kill you? What if--”

 

“He wasn’t!” Eiji interrupted, “He saved my life.”

 

“Why were you in a situation where your life  _ would need to be saved _ ?” Ibe groaned, eyeing the whisky that sat in the middle of the table. It would likely all be drinken up by him by the time they finished their stay at this place.

 

“It wasn’t some grandiose rescue or anything,” Eiji sulked, sitting on his hay filled mattress, “It’s not like he was some knight that rescued me from some dragon or stopped an evil sorcerer from casting a deathly curse on me--”

 

“You always did read far too many fairy tales.”

 

“--he just pulled me out of the way of traffic right before I was about to be hit by an oncoming speeding carriage.”

 

“Why weren’t you watching where you were going?”

 

“I…” Eiji thought. He had no answer. It was the same thing said by the person who saved him, wasn’t it? He also pointed out how he was clearly wealthy, clearly from out of town. Perhaps he should take some credence to what Ibe was saying. He thought he could just wander throughout the kingdom square as a normal resident, but he failed at it. He didn’t know what it was like to be normal, what it was like to just fit in in society despite how desperately he tried to prevent himself from being unfairly elevated his entire life. He merely made a fool of himself nearly getting squashed by a horse and carriage, saved only by a guy who could see right through him. 

 

Still, despite his  _ head _ knowing this, something deeper within Eiji simply couldn’t regret his decisions made today. Yes, even foolishly stepping into traffic, nearly getting himself killed. If he hadn’t afterall, he wouldn’t have met that someone.

 

“You’re going to be stubborn over this, aren’t you?” Ibe finally sighed, pouring himself a drink.

 

“You don’t need to phrase it that way,” Eiji told him as he laid back in the mattress. The hay poked at his back through the thin fabric of the mattress. Very much unlike the cotton and feather mattress he was used to. Still, he didn’t miss it.

 

“Who was this person you met?” Ibe finally asked, “The one that saved your life.”

 

Eiji shot back up, thrown off guard. Ibe laughed and motioned for him to sit at the chair opposite of him at the small round table. Eiji did so and Ibe poured him cup of the whisky sitting on the table. Eiji only took a small sip--he always hated the taste of whisky.

 

“Well, it wasn’t really that exciting,” Eiji started as he tried to not wince from the horribly bitter taste of the whisky, “I dropped something into the street and tried to get it without looking. He pulled me aside right when a carriage was coming.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

“No,” Eiji answered, but stopped to ponder for a moment what he should say. He probably shouldn’t mention the fact that he saw right through Eiji, giving him a run down of his demeanor, his clothes, and his accent. “I thanked him, but we didn’t get to talk that long. He had to go...somewhere.”

 

“Who was he?” Ibe asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Eiji swirled his whisky cup idely, “He was definitely from here...But I didn’t really get much information about him. I asked if I could see him again, but he said he didn’t know…”

 

“So you’re fantasizing about a stranger you barely met.”

 

Eiji scowled, “Don’t say it like that! He was...he seemed very kind. He was--”

 

He didn’t want to talk about  _ all _ the details with him. It would only be childish for him to go about how handsome he was. How he had the nicest shade of light blond hair, the way his voice sounded enchanting to him even if he was scolding Eiji, the way his dazzling green eyes were the exact color of jade, his--

 

“Eiji,” Ibe interrupted when it was clear he was lost in his thoughts.

 

“--I think he’s nobility, maybe even outright royalty,” Eiji decided to say. “The way he was, the way he presented himself, I feel like he  _ had _ to be. I think he’s like me, a noble who wants to be a  _ part _ of this world. I think--”

 

“You met a handsome stranger who happened to be right there when you stepped into traffic and now your storybook mindset has projected onto him,” Ibe stated plainly. He knew Eiji long and well enough to read between the lines of much of what he said.

 

Eiji turned red, but he furrowed his brows and took another sip of the whisky, “I’m not saying it’s like  _ that.  _ I just met him, I’m just  _ saying _ \--”

 

“You haven’t even met the man that the royal family wants for you,” Ibe sighed, “You promised you would at least  _ consider _ it.”

 

“I am!” Eiji objected, “I never claimed that I’m going to marry some person I met on the street once! He doesn’t even know who I am. He could already be married.”

 

“Then perhaps it would be best for you to forget about this stranger,” Ibe told him with a sympathetic yet honest voice, “Please, for the sake of everything--for the sake of your  _ life _ , don’t go out without supervision again. Things will be a lot easier and  _ safer _ if you don’t go risking yourself chasing after some stranger you’ve never met who could be absolutely anyone.”

 

“Alright,” Eiji frowned, defeated.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Ibe left relatively early to attend some matters with some of Eiji’s entourage. It was not necessary for Eiji himself to go, so he didn’t. In fact given yesterday, Ibe argued that after everything it was far more prudent for him to stay put and not leave the room at the inn they shared at all today. Eiji had some books to read, ones that dealt with the history and customs of the kingdom which he was staying, so it was important for him to read up and be as prepared as possible.

 

There was some information on the family of the man they most wanted him to marry, which he decided to focus his efforts on. Some reports, some letters, and so forth that his people had managed to gather for him.His name was Yut Lung Lee of the esteemed Lee family. The Lees were originally from another faraway kingdom and the majority of the family still lived there, but they had a quite large presence here. They were a very large and powerful family, with Yut Lung himself being the youngest son of seven. Being married to him would also help with treaties and negotiations far beyond this current dealing.

 

What sparked some level of interest with Eiji, however, was that Yut Lung was said to have not resided with the rest of the Lee family for quite some time. A good handful of years ago, his brothers sent him away to live with the esteemed Dino Golzine to be trained as a protegee. Eiji had heard the name Golzine pop up now and then--he was an important figure in terms of trade in  _ all  _ the land, but he hadn’t really thought that deeply about him before this.

 

There was also a small pocket sized painting of Yut Lung that was commissioned for him, as was standard with most aristocratic attempts at courtship or marriage. He was quite pretty, with long black hair, dark piercing eyes, and an expression (even if only painted) that seemed to convey that he was extremely regal. He was said to be extremely charming, extremely polite, and a model of how aristocracy  _ should _ be.

 

Eiji sighed and put the readings aside. Objectively speaking, Yut Lung  _ did _ seem like a perfect match. A worldly young man from a powerful family, marrying him would be incredibly strategic. He was very attractive. He would behave as a ruler should, probably balancing out how Eiji  _ didn’t _ . A perfect candidate for marriage. 

 

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about the stranger from yesterday.

 

He sighed again more heavily. He was being unfair. He hadn’t even met Yut Lung yet. Perhaps upon meeting him in person it would be love at first sight. Maybe being in his presence would make him forget entirely about that stranger.  _ Ash _ .

 

He couldn’t ask about him. About Ash. No one that could answer could know that he snuck out in the first place, that he was currently in this kingdom in the first place. Ibe was right, he should just forget about him.

 

He groaned loudly as he stood up and went to the doorway, grabbing his jacket on the way.

 

It was silly for him to just go back to the market where he was yesterday and just expect him to show back up. He probably isn’t there everyday, he himself implied that it would be by mere chance if they ever happened to be at the same place at the same time again. He was silly for thinking Ash would be there and he was silly for coming here anyway. He was silly for turning his head quickly to look closely at any blond he saw out of the corner of his eye.

 

Another sigh. He really liked this marketplace. Sure, there were plenty where he was from, but it wasn’t like the crown prince could just stroll down to one. Even if he did, it wouldn’t be like he could just blend in. He would be instantly recognized. His subjects would rush to him, they would bow to him. He wouldn’t be able to simply buy things, merchants would simply run out and give it to him out of some sense of obligation. Although he was grateful and tried to show it at all times, he  _ hated _ the underlying reasoning behind it.

 

Even if Ash pointed out to him that he still  _ did _ stand out, he didn’t stand out in the same way. Being picked out as a nobleman was quite different from the highly revered crown prince. No one knew who he was.

 

So in that sense, maybe coming here wasn’t a complete waste of time, even if  _ he _ didn’t show up. He still had the chance to experience what it was like to be relatively normal for a little while. Perhaps it was a selfish wish, he knew thousands and thousands of people in poverty and suffering would trade anything to take his place. Still, as selfish as it was he couldn’t help but like this feeling.

 

He felt a little better about coming, but he still felt a twinge of disappointment as he decided to return to the inn. He still had a chance of getting back before Ibe did, which meant it would be as if this never happened.

 

Yet, it was just when he had finally given up that suddenly he spotted a blond person in his peripheral vision. Just like the many other blonds that passed by, he fully expected it to be no one he recognized. However…

 

“You came here today?”

 

The person who asked this question was not Eiji.

 

“I could say the same for you,” Eiji replied to Ash.

 

“I’m the resident here,” Ash frowned, “I needed to come here for some errands.” Eiji could have sworn his cheeks turned slightly pink, but he dismissed it. If anything, it was likely just a result of the brisk breeze of the still chilly spring afternoon.

 

Still, Eiji thought of the implications of what he said. If he was high in the aristocracy, he would not need to come here to fulfill errands. He frowned, slightly disappointed. Not that he cared about his status, but that he had hoped that--

 

“What?” Ash cut off his train of thought. Eiji was aware that he had been blankly staring at him and found his  _ own _ face turning bright red.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I’m just really surprised to be seeing you again.”

 

“Likewise, I guess.”

 

The two stood in an awkward silence in the loud, busy square as dozens of people passed them going about their way. They stared at each other, but both avoided direct eye contact. Eiji found himself entirely at a loss for words.

 

“Well,” Ash finally broke the silence, “I guess I should be working on those errands. Nice seeing you agai--”

 

“Wait!” Eiji cut him off, reaching for his arm. It was awkwardly abrupt and probably not proper in any culture to just grab someone’s arm like that. Still, this was the reason why he so foolishly came to this marketplace. He couldn’t just let him run off again, perhaps  _ really _ never seeing him again after this. Especially if he was just a commoner.

 

“Yes?” Ash raised an eyebrow. He didn’t pull away, however. A good enough sign.

 

“Could I join you on your errands?” he asked.

 

“Join me on my  _ errands _ ?” Ash’s eyebrow raised even higher. Eiji felt his face grow redder. That was definitely not a normal request. At this point, Ash probably thought he was crazy.

 

“I--Well,” he stammered, trying to justify his odd actions, “I don’t know anyone from here but you. I don’t really... _ run errands _ \--” Ash let out a single snicker under his breath “--so...I would like to join you…If that’s alright...”

 

“You don’t actually know me.”

 

“Then let me get to know you!” Eiji offered earnestly.

 

“I don’t think you really want to,” Ash frowned, gently pulling away from his grip. Eiji had forgotten that had still been holding on to him. There was a look of indescribable sadness on his face that was difficult for Eiji to understand. Yet at the same time, it didn’t seem as though he was merely letting him down easy.

 

“If  _ you _ don’t want me to then I’ll leave you alone,” Eiji looked him directly in his green eyes, “But if you’re worried that I won’t like you...let  _ me _ be the judge of that.”

 

Ash reverted back to his skeptical eyebrow raised expression. “You know, we are only strangers that happened to run into each other on the street. This is getting kind of overdramatic.”

 

“I guess so,” Eiji blushed and turned away. He probably came across as extremely strange.

 

“I’ll be honest,” Ash added after a brief pause, “I don’t actually have any errands for you  _ to _ follow me on.”

 

“But then--?”

 

“But if you want to come follow with me...I won’t stop you or anything.”

 

Ash ended up guiding them through a different part of the capitol. Not a marketplace for fresh foods, but instead a sort of higher end feeling street with more specialty shops with a few dining places thrown in. It still had a number of people, but the pace was much slower and relaxed than the hectic nature of the marketplace. The people there also felt far more like the people Eiji was used to--which wasn’t a good thing.

 

“You’re on vacation, aren’t you?” Ash asked, “This is a famous part of the capitol that visitors like you generally to come to.”

 

“I see,” Eiji responded. Of course he wasn’t going to admit that he  _ technically _ wasn’t on vacation.

 

“Have you been here already?” Ash asked, sensing his lack of enthusiasm.

 

“I haven’t!” Eiji threw up his hands, “But um...I am a little confused why you needed to come here.”

 

“I told you, already...I don’t,” Ash’s face had a bit of frustration. Eiji thought perhaps the expression was embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to automatically presume that that’s what it was.

 

“I see,” Eiji said again, unable to find any other words.

 

“Are you hungry?” Ash asked.

 

“I--A little, I guess.”

 

“I should be more clear: Do you want to stop and get something to eat?”

 

“Oh, I uh...don’t want to inconvenience you. If you’re not then...” he trailed off.

 

“ _ I’m _ hungry,” Ash shrugged, “But if you’re only a little, then there’s no use--”

 

“Okay then let’s get something!” Eiji cut him off. The corner of Ash’s mouth twitched into a small smile.

 

Ash guided him to a small, yet very fancy looking cafe. There were mostly what looked like upper class women sitting around in the outdoor seats sipping tea in their fancy dresses while gossiping and girlishly laughing amongst their friends. Eiji could tell before they even sat down that it was likely an expensive, high class place. 

 

They were both underdressed, Ash especially, but the man at the entrance seemed to know Ash, nodding to him cordially. Ash merely sneered as they took a table outside. It was quite odd, but it further heightened Eiji’s hopes that Ash was a noble of some kind.

 

They were served tea from a very nicely painted china tea set. Not nearly as nice as the tea sets from his own palace, though of course that wouldn’t bother him in the slightest. He took a sip. It was quite bitter. He plopped in a few sugar cubes and stirred it in with the silver spoon provided.

 

Ash took a sip of his own tea, not needing any sugar. He very politely returned his teacup to the plate and after a moment’s pause gave Eiji a long hard look and asked, “Just who are you?” 

 

“Excuse me?” Eiji asked, slightly thrown off guard. Though he immediately realized he shouldn’t be. It was a normal question, given they still didn’t know each other.

 

“You told me your name was Eichan and we established that you’re not from around here,” Ash took another sip, “But I don’t know anything else.”

 

“I don’t know anything but your name either,” Eiji dodged the question, “Though I’d guess that you’ve always lived here and that you’re...a noble of some kind.”

 

“You’d be wrong on both fronts.”

 

“You’re not?” Eiji felt disappointment from the pit of his stomach on up.

 

“You sound disappointed,” Ash frowned, “Sorry, but I’m no prince or anything.”

 

“No!” Eiji quickly objected, nearly knocking his teacup over, “It’s not like that! That sort of thing doesn’t matter to me! It’s just...the way you know so much, how you act...You just  _ seem  _ like you are.”

 

To be fair, a servant or something would know a lot of what he does. Overseeing everything, ever present as an unofficial member of meetings. Yet something about him didn’t feel like some normal servant. He seemed formally trained in manners and how to present oneself beyond that of just observing. The way he was greeted at this cafe. He had to be  _ something _ .

 

“There’s a reason for that,” Ash smiled, but in a way that looked incredibly sad, “But I can’t talk about it.” He looked up, his smile suddenly more genuine, “But thank you for confirming to me that you yourself are one. So what, are you a duke of some far off land or something?”

 

“Just like you...I can’t talk about it.”

 

“I guess that’s fair,” Ash finished off his tea and poured himself some more from the pot.

 

Given that they established that they couldn’t talk about personal things, they instead decided to talk about casual topics. Foods they liked--they both agreed that they preferred commoner food to the tasteless, pretentious food of the upper class. They talked about how they both loved the sea, Ash hesitantly letting out that he was born by the seaside. Eiji in turn hesitantly shared how his mother and father would take him on holiday to the beach when it got too hot. 

 

It was strange. They were strangers who could barely say anything about themselves and yet despite the sense of hesitant awkwardness, talking to Ash felt so natural. Sitting there, the rough exterior he had when they first met oh so slowly seemed to fade, replaced by someone who seemed much softer...though still reserved and mysterious.

 

Like many of his afternoon teas in the palace, they were served small sandwiches, scones, and small cakes. The style of them were different, which was to be expected as each kingdom had its own cuisine culture. For that reason, he was able to enjoy it all the more. 

 

Still, the sandwiches were far more full and stacked with things than what he was used to. He couldn’t help but drop some of it down on him. Ash playfully laughed at him, and reached for a napkin to help him.

 

When they finished, for some reason Ash didn’t have to pay for anything. Ash and the man in charge gave each other a knowing nod, Ash with resentment in his eyes, and the two went about their way. Eiji decided it was best to not ask about it.

 

They walked back to the marketplace in near silence. Yet nothing about it felt awkward to Eiji. It was very late in the afternoon--Ibe was almost definitely back by now, so there was no way he would be able to get away with this. He was going to have his ear talked off for sure. Still, no regrets.

 

“When can I see you again?” Eiji asked abruptly, stopping in the middle of the path.

 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Ash averted his gaze.

 

Eiji felt his heart drop. “Oh...If you don’t want to, then--”

 

“No, it’s not that!” Ash insisted. He had a sad look upon his face and finally added, “How about the day after tomorrow? In the same place.”

 

“Alright,” Eiji smiled wider than he had in a very long time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Reminder that you can find me on both Twitter and Tumblr.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that the very earliest version of Cinderella, Rhodopis, was a courtesan slave?

Ash was allowed to sleep in that morning. The highly intricate linen curtains with painted on designs helped keep the sunshine out of the room. He wasn’t entirely sure what time it was when he finally woke up.

 

He found himself waking in a soft feather mattress covered in silk sheets and expensive fur blankets. The bed was comfortable--far more comfortable than his dinky bed in the attic. Not to mention, the frame was made of the finest mahogany wood with what looked like little vines and leaves carved into the headboard. It was the sort of bed that most ordinary people in the kingdom would dream of laying in but for a moment. 

 

Dino saw it that way, as well. In his twisted mind, having Ash rejoin him in his bed chambers was a form of reward for his recent good behavior.

 

Ash felt sick the second he opened his eyes. Not physically ill with a fever, though felt like he could throw up all the same. Despite the comfort of the mattress while he rested, his body was still incredibly sore. Part of him wanted to rest the entire day away in the bed, mind completely empty. Yet a larger part of him felt smothered by the bed whose blankets made him feel dirtier by the instant.

 

Slowly he arose, sitting for a moment on the side of the bed. There was a bowl with warm water and a washcloth on the stand beside the bed. He slowly grabbed it and rubbed his face--especially his mouth, probably the dirtiest part of his face. He rubbed the rag against his mouth hard enough that he could feel the dead skin of his lips come off onto it.

 

It wasn’t enough. He was going to take a bath, he decided. 

 

Usually, he cleaned himself with a bucket up in his attic. Not today. Today he wanted a true bath. He had to exit the bedroom chambers to go to where the bath was held. A servant politely  acknowledge him and wished him good morning as he exited Dino’s chambers, but Ash only felt shame. He didn’t want anyone to acknowledge where he had been the night before. He knew it was rude of him, but he merely passed the servant without even slightly acknowledging him back.

 

The bath was a solid silver tub, one that had to be polished regularly. It was free for Ash and Youssis to use whenever they wished, to which the latter boy did quite frequently. Dino and Youssis would generally have servants wash them down, but the thought of someone else washing Ash’s body disgusted him. Nonetheless, when he approached the room it was in, covered in stone floors to help mop the water up, he would still have to call a servant in to fill the tub. It was empty.

 

The servant who answered his call was a young girl, probably not passed her early teens. She was new there and seemed to be unable to move without trembling. Still, she filled the bath with oils and fragrances according to how Youssis always wished for his baths to be. Ash liked his baths relatively simple--he hated smelling like...like  _ them _ \--but he couldn’t bring himself to scold the girl.

 

“Are you sure you don’t need assistance with the bath?” she asked in a meek voice.

 

“I’m sure,” Ash responded despondently. She merely bowed politely and excused herself from the room, leaving him alone.

 

When he got in the water, it was a lot colder than he would have wanted. Yousiss would have likely slapped the servant girl for this sort of oversight. He wasn’t entirely sure what Dino would do. He sunk down into the tub until half of his face was submerged in water. He didn’t want to think about Dino. All he wanted was for all these layers of grime that seemed to be stuck on his skin to get off of him. He just wanted to be clean.

 

Afterall, he had promised to see Eichan again today, didn’t he? 

 

Eichan was clean. He was bright, like the comforting flame of a lamp shining in the otherwise scary dark. He had only met him twice now, but he could tell.

 

He scrubbed his neck. He knew he was being foolish. Like he just confessed to himself, he had only met him twice. There were plenty of people who seemed nice at first, only to later prove to be the cruelest. Blind trust to someone he barely knew was what brought him into this life, wasn’t it?

 

No, Eichan wasn’t like that.

 

He cupped bath water in his hands and dumped it over his hair. The scented water went down his face, the oils burning his eyes slightly despite him closing them shut.

 

Eichan didn’t know anything about him. What would he think about him if he knew who he was? 

 

He had thought Ash was a noble. The thought of that almost him laugh. Sure, he lived a life of relative “luxury” in this giant house, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. By all accounts he was a slave, wasn’t he? Expensive or not, he was a prostitute slave. The absolute lowest of the low.

 

He also had blood on his hands. The work he had been forced to do for Dino in his racketeering ring was despicable. He directly caused the death of many and...with this oncoming assassination plot towards the prince, he was only going to cause far more.

 

He sat in the bath for about an hour. He realized he wasn’t going to get any cleaner sitting in what had become a tub of his own filth and with a sigh got out.

 

He had been a prostitute for about a decade now. He thought he should be completely numb to this by now. To an extent, he did handle it far better than when he was first brought to this awful piece of hell. He used to cry and cry, unable to function for days on end. He was far better at suppressing things now, he figured. Still...

 

Maybe going out and being with Eichan, someone who knew nothing about him, would help him. Play pretend like when he was a child. Griff always said he was a prince, didn’t he? Of course, he wouldn’t lie to Eichan and say that he was, but perhaps for once he could  _ feel _ like he was again.

 

He looked at himself in the dull silver mirror in the far side of the room. There were dark circles under his eyes as usual and his wet blond hair stuck to his face, nothing abnormal. What was though, was a purple bruise on his neck. His heart fell. The servants had seen it. Everyone had seen it.

 

He brought his towel to his neck and tried to rub it off, as if it were dirt. He rubbed and rubbed obsessively and harshly. Even when it showed no signs of coming off, he tried. Even if he rubbed off all of the skin, it didn't matter. He just needed that mark gone.

 

But no matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, he made it redder and more noticable.

 

He shouldn’t meet Eichan today. He shouldn’t have gone back in the square to try and find him in the first place. What right did he have doing that in the first place?

 

He got dressed to leave the bathroom, but he went back to put on a small cravat. He usually hated them, making him feel ridiculous, preferring a loose collar. Today he didn’t care. Even if he wasn’t going to leave the manor, he didn’t want anyone looking at his neck. It was spring but still quite chilly, so he could always use that as an excuse as well.

 

“Ash,” Dino greeted him as they passed each other down the dark hallway, “I see you are ready for the day.”

 

“Mhm,” was the only response Ash could give, looking down at the older man’s leather shoes.

 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” Dino scolded as he grabbed Ash’s chin, forcing it up. He did as he was told, but his eyes remained out of focus, making the man’s face a blur. “You look unwell,” Dino carefully analyzed his face, “Should I call for a doctor?”

 

“I’m fine,” Ash turned his head to lightly free it from Dino’s grip. Not wanting to be grabbed again, he hesitantly moved his head back to look at Dino in the face.

 

“Perhaps you should rest today regardless,” Dino mused, “I can’t have you getting sick with all that is imminently to happen. Why don’t you go back to my bedchambers and--”

 

“No!” Ash cut him off more aggressively than he meant to. 

 

“No?” Dino raised an eyebrow.

 

“You said I’m free to do what I want today,” Ash took a breath to sound more collected, “I am going into the town.”

 

“Are you sure you’re well enough?” Dino asked again, suspicion in his voice.

 

“Yes,” he replied. Truth be told, he probably wasn’t. Yet more than anything, he realized he had to get out of this house as soon as possible. Anywhere. “I think fresh air will help me more than anything.”

 

Dino conceded, afterall he had promised him he could have today free and despite how dispicable of a human being he was, he was a man of his word. Just as long as he ate a late breakfast in the dining hall with him first, something that always repulsed Ash, but hesitantly agreed to.

 

\---

 

“Are you alright?” Eichan asked.

 

“Hm? Yes, I’m fine,” Ash replied.

 

Ash had strongly considered avoiding meeting Eichan, even if he was going to go out anyway. It was quite a large place, he could have just as easily come here and simply avoided their meeting place. Or perhaps he could have forgone coming here at all, and could have simply rested in the forest on his own.

 

Still, he came just when he said he would, where he said he would. Eichan had already been waiting there, and gave him the biggest smile and wave when he noticed him.

 

“You look more down,” Eichan noted with a worried frown, tilting his head slightly to the left in a way that reminded him of a puppy. 

 

Ash couldn’t help but give a small smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’m happy to see you again.”

 

“Good,” Eichan smiled slightly, albeit concern still in his eyes, “Where are we going today?”

 

“Ah, so you expect me to be your tour guide?” Ash forced a more mischievous smirk, “Here I was thinking you wanted my company, but in reality you just want someone to show you the ropes of this place for free, huh?”

 

He tried his best to banter as he did before, but the coldness in his heart made it sound fake. Eichan, however, didn’t seem to notice.

 

“What--No!” Eichan threw his hands up, “It’s not...I’m not--”

 

Ash chuckled. It was odd how Eichan was able to brighten his mood so much. Of course, it didn’t undo all of his negative emotions, but he felt a genuine sense of warmth in his chest. Nothing could just cure all his problems, but the amount that with Eichan seemed to cheer him up surprised him.

 

“--You are making fun of me, aren’t you?” Eichan gave a pouty face.

 

“I’m just teasing you,” Ash smiled more genuinely, “Don’t be so sensitive.”

 

“I’m not!” he protested.

 

Ash ignored his pouts. “I’m taking us to a place I go regularly.” 

 

“Oh?” Eichan’s eyes grew wide, seeming to already forget that he was pouting just moments before. Ash thought the way he went from pouty to bright eyed so quickly was just so... _ cute _ .

 

“Yep,” he smirked.

 

Truth be told, he didn’t tell Shorter ahead of time that he planned on coming today, much less bringing another person. Yet Shorter and Nadia never minded whenever he came during their afternoon break hours, so he couldn’t see an issue. Sure, he never brought anyone with him unless it was other mutual acquaintances, but he couldn’t see him taking issue.

 

He guided Eichan down the streets to the small tucked away restaurant. It was closed still, but he knocked on the door and Shorter quickly rushed to allow him in as Ash had come to expect.

 

What he hadn’t expected was the utterly baffled look Shorter gave to Eichan as he stood frozen at the doorway.

 

“This is my…acquaintance, Eichan,” Ash told Shorter, realizing halfway through the sentence he had no idea how to introduce him, “Eichan, this is Shorter.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Eichan greeted him politely, despite clearly being uncomfortable by the look Shorter gave him.

 

“Uh, yeah...likewise,” Shorter blinked.

 

“Don’t be rude,” Ash frowned at him, “You can put up with me bringing someone once.

 

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” Shorter shook his head, as if he hadn’t realized the way he had come across. After a moment he gave a fake smile to Eichan and added, “I just didn’t ever think I’d see Ash bringing someone. Kinda surprising is all.”

 

“I see,” Eichan’s eyes widened, though Ash couldn’t interpret his overall expression.

 

“Are you gonna let us in?” Ash asked.

 

“Oh yeah, sure,” Shorter blinked several times before moving out from the doorway to invite them in, “You guys can take a seat.”

 

Eichan gave a reassuring smile to Ash, and the two of them sat at one of the tables in the center. Shorter quickly went and got them both cups of tea, leaving the teapot in the center. Unlike usual, where he would pull up a chair to sit backwards in, he rushed to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

 

“He’s not usually like that,” Ash frowned, circling his finger around the rim of his cup.

 

“It’s fine,” Eichan insisted, bringing his own teacup to his mouth.

 

“No it’s not.”

 

Eichan drank the tea slowly, and brought his cup back down. “Really...I don’t mind.”

 

Nadia came out and gave them both some soup. Ash politely introduced them as well, and Nadia gave a genuine smile, not acting strangely like Shorter was. It made Ash feel a little better. At least she was acting normal and being polite to Eichan. He was going to ask her if there was something wrong with Shorter today, but decided not to bring it up again in front of Eichan. With a smile, she dismissed herself and the two of them were left alone again.

 

“What do you like to do for fun?” Eichan asked abruptly.

 

“For...fun?” Ash tilted his head slightly in confusion.

 

“Yes,” Eichan nodded, “For example, I always liked to ride horses. Can you ride?”

 

“Not really,” Ash shrugged, “I mean I have before a couple times, but I wouldn’t call myself a ‘rider of horses’ or anything. It’s always uncomfortable sitting like that on a giant animal, having to worry about not falling off as it bumps you around.”

 

“You get used to it,” Eichan laughed, “Once you are comfortable with your horse and are able to go fast or do jumps it feels like flying. I used to compete, actually.”

 

Something about the conversation felt odd to Ash, as if there was a sense of deja vu. In a weird way, as if a flag had been raised in his head, though he hadn’t the slightest idea of what it could possibly be signifying. 

 

“Hey, is that a common hobby in other kingdoms?” he hesitantly asked.

 

“What do you mean?” Eichan raised his eyebrows, “Is it not normal here?”

 

“I dunno,” he answered, still troubled by that odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, “Maybe it is.”

 

“Well,” Eichan ate a spoonful of the soup, thinking of ways to deflect the conversation’s odd tone shift, “You didn’t answer. What do  _ you _ like to do, Ash?”

 

“Not much.”

 

“I see,” Eichan stared at his bowl. 

 

They finished their food in silence, unable to bring back the tone from before. It wasn’t as if either of them said anything to offend each other. Yet still, an awkward, weird feeling loomed over them, even more apparent by neither Shorter or Nadia coming back.

 

“It’s getting too late in the afternoon,” Eichan announced suddenly, “I should go back.”

 

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Ash offered.

 

“It’s alright,” Eichan assured him, “I can figure it out.”

 

Ash instantly worried that this response meant that this meeting was a failure in Eichan’s eyes. It would make sense--he showed up in a bad emotional state, Shorter acted odd in a way that probably offended Eichan, and for whatever reason Ash had allow them to fall into a certifiable awkward state.

 

He immediately figured that Eichan probably wouldn’t want to see him again. It hurt, but at the same time he figured that it was alright. It’s not like anything could have come out of this. He tried and showed up, and knowing that they plain and simply wouldn’t work out was probably a lot better closure than always wondering. It was fine. This was fine.

 

“Ash…” Eichan interrupted his thoughts.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I have a confessin...I not sure if I can see you again,” he said in a hesitant tone that was impossible to read. Ash felt his heart fall. He just told himself this, didn’t he? Yet still it hurt to have it confirmed.

 

“Are you going back to your home country?”

 

“No, not yet,” Eichan bit his bottom lip.

 

“Alright. I won’t bother you anymore.”

 

“No!” Eichan threw his hands up, “Please do not take it in that way!” He sounded genuinely surprised by Ash’s words, and there seemed to be true sincerity as well.

 

“Then…?” Ash raised an eyebrow.

 

“I  _ want _ to see you again. I really enjoy meeting you and wish to thank you very much...but things will soon become more...difficult,” he said with his head somewhat held low. After pausing for a few seconds, he quickly jumped. “But! I do  _ hope _ to see you again. Maybe you will soon grow angry at me but...if you are not, when the time comes...please find me.”

 

Ash had dealt with a lot of cryptic sorts in his life, but not in the weirdly earnest yet cagey way he was. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” was all he could answer with. 

 

“You will soon,” he answered in a voice low like a whisper.

 

Ash found himself unable to respond. Eichan didn’t wait for him to find the words. He merely politely bowed his head and excused himself from the establishment, leaving Ash alone once more.

 

For a minute or two Ash was left alone in silence. Eichan was weird both times he met him, but that was especially strange. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t regret coming out today for this awkward meeting. It was far better than having to stay on Dino’s estate.

 

“Ash,” Shorter called out to him finally with a very restrained tone, “Are you going to explain whatever the hell that was?”

 

“What do you mean? If you were eavesdropping, I have no idea what he was saying either--”

 

“Don’t play dumb,” Shorter’s eyes narrowed.

 

“You have a problem with me bringing someone here? What are you jea--”

 

“You know exactly what I mean. What the hell were you doing with  _ him?” _

 

“What, you know him?” Ash asked.

 

“I said don’t play dumb.” Shorter was growing visibly annoyed.

 

“Okay, for argument’s sake, let’s say I am dumb. Be specific.”

 

“Fine, then I’ll spell it out,” Shorter rolled his eyes, “Why the hell did you bring Prince Eiji to my place?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a disjointed chapter that I kept having to scrap and rewrite large parts of to become tonally consistent, though I think it was still kind of odd in a few places. I am also trying to prepare more for the endgame.


	11. Chapter 11

“What are you talking about?” Ash brought himself to ask after a few moments of silence.

 

“What do you  _ mean  _ what am I talking about?” Shorter responded, sounding rather put off.

 

“I didn’t bring the prince. The prince isn’t even here yet,” Ash blinked a few times.

 

“Well, apparently he  _ is  _ because that was definitely him.”

 

“No...that was Eichan,” Ash said calmly and slowly, “Not the prince.”

 

“Don’t play dumb,” Shorter rubbed his temples with his hand, “You’re too smart for this. Eiji...Eichan.”

 

“Those don’t sound remotely similar,” Ash rolled his eyes.

 

“Okay, then. If he’s  _ not _ the prince, then tell me: Who the hell is he then?” Shorter crossed his arms.

 

“I told you, he’s Ei--”

 

“Not his name.”

 

“Fine,” Ash huffed and sat back down in the seat at the table, “ _ Like I said, _ his name is Eichan. He’s from a different kingdom.”

 

“What kingdom?” Shorter raised an eyebrow as he took a seat next to him.

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a small frown.

 

“Must be from some wealthy kingdom, given that there’s a war ruining the economy of most,” Shorter gave a fake sigh.

 

“Well, he  _ is  _ a noble,” his frown grew as he looked down at the floor, “Which I know sounds bad for my case, but...there are a  _ lot  _ of kingdoms out there.”

 

“Yet only one has that that very  _ distinct  _ accent, ya know,” Shorter narrowed his eyes, “Given that you work with spies from that country, it seems ridiculous to me that you didn’t pick up on that.”

 

“A lot of accents sound similar to that,” Ash furrowed his brows, getting more and more irritated by the moment.

 

“Well, you know, it also so happens that I’ve seen the prince before,” Shorter leaned back casually, “A few years ago, Nadia and I went to visit family in the country we were born in and the prince happened to be visiting. You’ve heard that story before.”

 

“You’re wrong!” Ash shoved his fist on the table angrily. He usually didn’t have outbursts towards Shorter, but he couldn’t control it.

 

“Geez,” Shorter eyed him down, “You really  _ didn’t _ know, did you? Here I thought you were playing coy and was more worried that you were going to poison him or something in the middle of my shop.”

 

“It’s not him!” Ash began shaking, “It can’t be.”

 

“That was a genuine date, wasn’t it?” Shorter grew more solemn, “You  _ fell _ for the prince, didn’t you?”

 

“Eichan is just an acquaintance of mine. He’s not  _ anyone _ but Eichan.”

 

“Hey, this could be a good thing,” Shorter said softly. He spoke with a very kind sense of sympathy that was very contrary to his usual casual, laid back tone of someone who had seen it all in the back alleys of the streets.

 

“How the  _ hell _ could that be a good thing?” Ash glared up at him.

 

“Well, you know...You know all about the assassination attempt, don’t you? He probably really likes you and must obviously trust you enough to follow you without guards out in the open in enemy land. You can help him--”

 

“You know I can’t!” Ash stood up, his angry eyes forming hot tears, “What the hell do you think I am? Do you think I have  _ power _ over what those people do?”

 

“Ash…”

 

“But it doesn’t matter,” taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down, “Eichan isn’t the prince.”

 

\---

 

“Ei-chan!” Ibe scolded. He found Eiji in the middle of the square. He had been out looking for him, and Eiji knew he was going to be disappointed. Afterall, after leaving when he wasn’t supposed to twice now, they had him securely guarded to not get away a third. Of course, Eiji wasn’t anything if not resourceful.

 

Though this time Eiji wasn’t going to try and get out of it with his puppy dog eyes and a hand behind his head. He wasn’t going to argue that he could do what he wants, being that he was a prince afterall. He wasn’t going to explain to Ibe why he should be allowed to roam free.

 

“I’m sorry,” he instead responded melancholically, his head hung low, “I won’t do it again.”

 

“That’s what you said the first two times,” Ibe crossed his arms.

 

“I know!” Eiji’s head shot up as he gave an intense look towards Ibe, “I just...I just wanted to say goodbye. He was expecting me, so I knew it was my last chance...My last chance to...” 

 

“That Ash boy again?” Ibe asked, finding sympathy for his younger prince.

 

“Yes,” he said in a voice as low as a whisper, hanging his head back down.

 

Ibe lightly put his hand on Eiji’s shoulder to start guiding him back to their shared residence. “Believe me when I say I know how you feel. It’s just that when we pushed up your official arrival date  _ already _ we can’t have you running about and getting into trouble. This is bigger than you, bigger than any of us.”

 

“I know that.”

 

“Do you?” Ibe asked.

 

“Yes!” Eiji frowned, offended by his insinuation, “Of course I do! My head knows I should have forgotten about him the moment after I met him, but it’s just...It’s just that I  _ never  _ met anyone like him before.”

 

“You barely know him,” Ibe gently tried to remind him. They had reached their living quarters and he went through his small satchel he carried to search for the key.

 

“And I’ll barely know this Yut Lung fellow before I’m expected to decide whether or not I want to marry him!” Eiji grabbed Ibe’s arm that went for the lock. At this point, he was overtly offended.

 

Ibe sighed, but didn’t respond as he unlocked the door. He placed his things next to the entryway and wordlessly entered, sitting down tiredly at the wooden table.

 

“So you’re just going to ignore that?” Eiji asked from the doorway.

 

“Sit down and we’ll talk about this,” Ibe responded emotionlessly. Eiji hated this entire situation, but he complied. “Good,” Ibe nodded, “Now you should know, we did as you requested and looked up this Ash fellow.”

 

“You did?” Eiji’s eyes glowed, “You said you wouldn’t!”

 

“Well, I saw how much he seemed to mean to you, so I changed my mind,” Ibe reached for a glass and the whiskey on the table. He had drunk most of it during their stay here.

 

“And?” Eiji leaned forward with anticipation.

 

“Our search turned up empty handed,” Ibe said as he filled his glass, “We even took into consideration that you said he was born by the sea. When we looked up the birth records for every seaside village in this kingdom, we even looked at a few neighboring ones. We also looked at current records in this city. Nothing.”

 

“Nothing?” Eiji tilted his head.

 

“No,” Ibe shook his head as he placed the nearly empty bottle of whiskey back on the far end of the table, “There isn’t a single person named ‘Ash’ that would be anywhere near your age. We searched several possible years. He doesn’t exist on any record.”

 

“How can that be?” Eiji’s mouth opened slightly.

 

“He must have given you a fake name,” Ibe took a sip from his cup, “You told me you used a fake one as well, right?”

 

“Right,” Eiji sighed. It was disappointing, but it made sense. Ash was just as cagey as he was, afterall. He couldn’t be offended by the use of a fake name when he himself went by his nickname.

 

“What is it about this boy?” Ibe asked, “We have brought you dozens of potential suitors. Why are you so fond of this boy you found on the streets?”

 

“I cannot say what exactly,” Eiji sighed sadly, “But...It is a feeling. The first time I met him he saved my life. He could see right through me--not my title or  _ who _ I am, but he seemed to have... _ me _ figured out. It was as if we were drawn to each other.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t just find him attractive?”

 

“No!” Eiji protested, “Or...he is very handsome, but that is not it. Talking to him...It is very hard for me to describe.”

 

“I see,” Ibe sighed as he placed his glass lightly on the table.

 

“But you are right,” Eiji said under his breath. He took a deep breath and in a slightly louder voice added, “I will meet with Yut Lung tomorrow.”

 

\---

 

“Ash my boy, you were out late,” Dino greeted him at the gate when he returned.

 

“I have permission to do as I wish today, don’t I?” Ash replied without making eye contact. He knew he could get in trouble for it like he had this morning, but at this point he didn’t care.

 

“True,” Dino pursed his lips, “So I shall not scold you. However, there has been a turn of events and since you have returned I must request your presence in the meeting room.”

 

“What for?” Ash gave a side eyed glance.

 

“You shall find out,” he smiled his typical diplomatic smirk. He put a hand on Ash’s back to guide him inside. His touch made him feel sick, but he complied, and followed him through the grand front garden into the entryway of the house.

 

The meeting room was full, much to Ash’s surprise. Youssis sat in the center of it, dressed up in an elegant gown, unlike the more traditionally masculine clothing he usually wore to these sorts of things. His expression was diplomatic, but Ash knew him well enough to tell that he was incredibly annoyed. Dino brought his hand down from his back, and Ash took a seat on an empty chair at the far end.

 

“I must apologize for such short notice,” Dino greeted everyone, “However, the news I am about to share also came at such short notice.” There was chatter amongst the people in the room, but Ash drowned it out. Dino cleared his throat to regain their attention. “As you may have know, our dearest Prince Eiji was set to arrive for quite some time. However, apparently it would seem that he was so entranced by our beautiful Yut Lung here that he couldn’t wait any longer.”

 

“When, then?” a man asked.

 

“Tomorrow,” Dino responded.

 

“Tomorrow?” another man asked astonishedly. Ash raised his eyebrow at the news.

 

“Yes,” Dino nodded, “It is to be announced to the kingdom publicly at sundown. In the morning preparations are to be made and in the late afternoon the prince will make his formal entry. He shall come here, directly to our estate.”

 

Ash let out a small sigh of relief. If the prince was having a grand entrance  _ into _ the limits of the capital, he couldn’t already be here. He would have to sneak out and back in with such a short window of time. In the first place, it didn’t make  _ sense _ that the prince would come early. Why would he risk everything illegally trespassing? The only way Shorter’s claim would have made sense to him would have been if he had  _ already _ been here officially as agreed between the two kingdoms, just not publicly announced. Yet if that were the case, Dino and his people would have already known that.

 

Even if, say, the prince  _ did _ decide to sneak in early, everything still didn’t make any sense. He would probably be on lockdown for his safety. He wouldn’t just be traveling around so casually. He wouldn’t go shopping in a busy marketplace where someone could have recognized him. He  _ definitely _ wouldn’t have agreed to go with a sketchy stranger like Ash.

 

Yes, Shorter had to be wrong. He knew a lot about the world and how it really worked, but he wasn’t always the best at remembering names and faces. For a long time he confused Alex and Bones, something Ash found amusing. He didn’t know why he allowed himself to worry about such a thing.

 

Eichan was a wealthy traveler. He would go back to his country before long and eventually would forget about him.

 

_ “I  _ want  _ to see you again. I really enjoy meeting you and wish to thank you very much...but things will soon become more...difficult.” _

 

Eichan’s words played back in his head. He wasn’t sure what he meant by “difficult”. Things becoming so due to him officially arriving as the prince  _ would _ make sense. He said he wasn’t returning home yet, or so he said.

 

Though it was entirely possible that Eichan was trying to let him down easy. An “I want to see you again, but I just  _ can’t _ .” He himself used it with many clients who got the wrong idea and expected him to sneak out to be with them of his own volition. But did Eichan think of Ash the same way he himself thought of people who  _ bought _ him? That was an uncomfortable thought.

 

It was probably something else entirely. It was just coincidence that his vague phrasing sounded the way it did.

 

He should just forget about Eichan. Regardless of whether he was the prince or not--which he definitely was  _ not _ . He was a boy he met a few times and enjoyed his company. He lived in a foreign country. Ash was stuck here in this estate. He was of high status. Ash was a prostitute. It wasn’t like they could have  _ really  _ become friends let alone...anything else.

 

He should just be thankful that he had the opportunity to meet someone so kind and full of light the couple times that he did. Wanting any more was selfish.

 

“Ash,” Dino’s voice called out. Ash jumped slightly in his chair as he became alert. He had allowed himself to zone out, completely missing whatever was being said.

 

“Yes?” he responded.

 

“Do you approve of all that we have discussed?”

 

“Of course,” Ash responded, despite not really remembering what was being said. Something about how they would dress Yut Lung up from early morning to make sure he looked perfect. Ash was to stay in the attic--not out of being in trouble, but because they wanted to make sure Eiji had his eyes on Yut Lung, to not let them stray on anyone else his age. He knew they were hoping that this meeting would lead to an immediate engagement--completely forgoing the young prince’s wishes for a ball.

 

Ash just wanted this all to be over already.

 

\---

 

They had to leave late at night. Afterall, officially speaking Eiji wasn’t allowed to be here. It seemed kind of silly that he had to rush out to the come back, but he understood the politics of borders (that he had broken) and why it had to be done.

 

They had announced his arrival before they left. At that point, it was  _ especially _ important that he didn’t leave the confines of the room. There was some worry that heightened security would make things difficult, but they were able to slip through the city in their dark cloak while the kingdom slept.

 

His entourage went decently far out, camped out in part of the forest. The setup was prepared ahead of time by his people who were only now joining them upon their official arrival. The grandest tent was made for Prince Eiji, and he frowned once more at the overly luxurious nature of it. He was back to being royalty.

 

Maybe that was why he liked Ash so much. He didn't treat him like royalty, he treated him like anyone else. Though of course, he didn’t  _ know _ that he was. He figured he was of high status, but being a crown prince of an entire kingdom was an entirely different matter. Not to mention, a crown prince of a kingdom they had been at  _ war _ with for over ten years. Who knows how he would have treated him if he knew the truth--how he  _ will _ think of him when he eventually figures it out.

 

Maybe Ibe was right. He got carried away by someone he hardly knew. He should focus his attention on Yut Lung and all that it would mean for the fate of both kingdoms, or even the entire  _ world _ , if they were to be wed.

 

He wasn’t sure how he was able to sleep that night with all that was on his mind, yet all the same he found that Ash’s green eyes were the last thing on his mind as he drifted to sleep on the soft feather mattress.

 

\---

 

Sunlight peeking through the slightly opened royal tent gently woke Eiji early the next morning, even before his servant who opened it called out his name to awaken him. He awoke with a big yawn and stretched his arms above his head. 

 

“Good morning, my prince,” she greeted him politely. In her arms were his clothes for the day--a very blue and red stately ensemble that he could tell just by looking at it was going to be uncomfortable. He sighed at it, but quickly wanted to make it clear he wasn’t sighing at  _ her _ and wished her a good morning back. She chuckled slightly.

 

Eiji got up from the bed and started to untie the collar of his sleep shirt, but his servant quickly rushed over to him to do it herself. “I’ve been dressing you since you were a small boy,” she told with a nostalgic smile of adoration on her face, “Of course I want to help you get ready on the day you are to decide upon your betrothed.”

 

“It hasn’t been decided yet,” Eiji reminded her as he lifted his hands above his head to help her take his sleep shirt off.

 

“I didn’t name the Lee boy, did I?” she laughed under her breath as she pulled his undershirt over his head.

 

“Then what do you mean?” Eiji asked as his head was poked out through the neck hole. 

 

She merely smiled without answering as she grabbed his first layer of the adorned layers above the undershirt he was to wear. It was a elegantly designed but overly heavy buttoned up reddish vest. Above it was an even heavier blue jacket that was blue but otherwise matched in design. Of course even then she wasn’t finished, having to put on his sash and all the annoying embellishments that signified his status. She had to lace up his tight boots that went up to his knees. It was all suffocating and far too heavy in the ever hotter growing spring weather, but he knew better than to complain.

 

Last, she reached for a small chest and pulled out his crown. She placed it on the bedside to run her fingers through his bed head hair before placing the circular bejeweled crown on top of his head. It made his neck feel like it was being pushed down into his torso.

 

He looked at himself in the mirror that was put up in his tent. He felt like an entirely different person again. Would Ash even recognize him like this?

 

Slowly, his hands reached for the heavy crown as he gently took it off his head. “It’s really heavy,” he told his servant, “If it’s alright, I’ll put it on closer until we arrive.”

 

“As you wish, my prince,” she replied, giving a cordial bow.

 

\---

 

Ash awoke in the attic to his name being called downstairs. Although he was to remain there while Prince Eiji was here, he was expected to help in the morning. The reason he slept up there was due to Dino claiming they both needed their sleep before an important day--no distractions.

 

Dino had told him that in a scolding tone. As if Ash himself chose to “distract” him. As if it were some sort of mild punishment for it. Still, any time he was allowed to sleep alone in the attic was a godsend, so he merely replied that he understood.

 

Ash quickly threw on some ordinary clothes and went downstairs. In the main hall sat Youssis, a large group of people around him. He was already dressed quite elegantly in true princely attire, his long black hair being done by a woman who if he had to guess was a lady in waiting from the castle. It made sense, given that this was related to the royal family. They  _ would  _ send a formal representative--not a mole that they were unaware of.

 

The royal family was a quite large extended family, but the King and Queen themselves only had a young son and all of the other princes were either already promised. He knew that by default, noble blooded Yut Lung would be viewed as someone they could use as a pawn for marriage, and of course with the arrival of the prince they would want to be involved. Still, he had never seen the queen this up close before. 

 

Dino had visited the royal family in their castles many times, as did noble blooded  _ Yut Lung Lee _ . Not Ash, however. Why would he? He was used by Dino in all sorts of ways, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a nobody. It made him especially self conscious about the fact he wore “normal” clothes.

 

“My boy,” Dino greeted Ash with a hand on him, “Today is the day all we have planned for will finally come into action.”

 

“I guess,” he replied, trying to ignore how sick Dino’s arm on him made him feel, “Though I wouldn’t bet on anything. The prince seemed pretty set on having a ball first.”

 

“True,” Dino frowned slightly, “Though this meeting gives us an advantage. He shall already know and be charmed by our dear Yous--Yut Lung.”

 

“Let’s hope, anyway.”

 

“Are you having any doubts?” he removed his arm from Ash.

 

“No,” he answered half honestly, “If he isn’t interested, we still have the poison back up plan at the ball, don’t we?”

 

“Right you are,” Dino said with a wicked grin.

 

\---

 

Grand entrances to kingdoms or villages he was visiting were nothing new to the young prince. That said, the would never grow on him. He couldn’t stand that he, just a normal person in his own mind, would cause an entire society to pause their daily life to greet him. Didn’t they have more important things to do?

 

It wasn’t like he wasn’t grateful, because he was. Though he knew that these things didn't occur out of the goodness of the hearts of the everyday citizens--he would know, because he was forced to help them prepare when important people visited  _ his _ kingdom. All it did was make him feel incredibly guilty. 

 

Of course, given that they gave such short notice this wasn’t to be as grand as some of them, which reassured him. On the other hand, the last minute nature meant they had to do a lot in such a short time. They probably wouldn’t be happy with him, given that he was their enemy afterall. It was that fact that made everything incredibly dangerous. It also wasn’t without question that this could all be a trap, perhaps even involving his own people as he long since suspected. He knew very well that this day could very well be his last.

 

Still, as his caravan approached the place he had previously resided in in secret, he put on his overly heavy crown and prepared for the worst.

 

It thankfully went better than expected. There were crowds, but they didn’t seem particularly angry or judgmental. The people he had seen on the streets instead cheered for him, cheered for peace.

 

He guess he knew that his reputation throughout the land was that he had  _ always _ wanted peace. Maybe this would go alright after all.

 

\---

 

“He’s coming!” a man called out. It was late in the afternoon already, Youssis now as beautiful as a little princely doll. The prince had first gone to the castle to formally meet the King and Queen, something the Queen had insisted much to Dino’s dismay. Still, he wasn’t going to argue with the  _ queen _ .

 

“Go upstairs,” Dino ordered Ash.

 

Ash complied, walking up the long wooden staircase to his prefered home. It felt weird, a prince coming to this terrible place he resided. Perhaps though it was fate. This was this estate that killed little Aslan for good, and in turn it was going to kill Prince Eiji.

 

He wondered what Eichan was doing right now. Did he go and join the crowds to see the prince? Ash was glad he himself didn’t. Things were so much easier not having a face to the poor doomed prince.

 

Still, Shorter’s words ate at his heart.

 

Perhaps he should sneak down the stairs, not to get a good look at the prince’s face, but rather to confirm that it  _ wasn’t  _ the face of Eichan. Even the back of his head would likely suffice. He wouldn’t stare hard and long, he still wouldn’t have a clear face to the name. They were to be in the main hall--clearly visible to him without even going down all of the stairs.

 

He shouldn’t. If Dino found out, he would be incredibly angry.

 

But then, what good was being on his good side? It seemed to be a double edged sword--his “rewards” almost just as bad as his punishments.

 

He would go down and look. After it was clear things had settled and they would be deep in conversation. A quick look halfway down the stairs and then he would come back up, mind and conscience cleared.

 

So he waited. After he could hear the formal entrance, after he heard the loudest of chatter. When all he could hear was the pounding of his own chest, he waited some more for good measure. When he was sure it was safe, he sat up from his bed and very carefully walked down the stairs.

 

He was very slow in his descent, making sure not to make the sound of footsteps or allow a board to squeak. Once he began to go down, he could hear the quieter, more contained chatter about. He heard a large bout of laughter, and instinctively paused before realizing that if they were distracted it would be better for him to take a look without being noticed.

 

With a deep breath, he continued down. It was just a few more steps until the stairway turned, opening up to the main hall. He would stop there and just quickly peak his head. Easy.

 

Still, he found himself pausing at the edge of the wall. This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t one to pause. Was he  _ this _ worried about being caught? No, he knew it wasn’t that.

 

With a deep breath he looked over the corner and directly at the distracted face of the prince.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was going to be a longer chapter but for pacing I split it into two. Now you get a short chapter.

Yut Lung was...fine?

 

He was quite attractive, with long silky black hair done up in a very intricate, fashionable style. It was a style fashionable in this kingdom, but more so with the women--not that it mattered to Eiji. His clothes, on the other hand, were of the quality of the princes themselves of this kingdom. He had very pale skin that didn’t have a single blemish or imperfection and looked soft to the touch. He had dark eyes and soft features that were not at all over exaggerated in the small portrait he had been given of him.

 

He had also clearly been raised and trained to be a proper nobleman. He walked about in a way where he almost seemed to be floating and sat upon his chair with the most perfect posture. He spoke politely, and when he ate he didn’t drop a single crumb on himself--unlike Eiji, of course, who was a messy eater regardless of how many tutors tried to teach him etiquette. Yet of course Yut Lung didn’t make the slightest acknowledgement when Eiji dropped his sandwich on his lap.

 

Personality wise, it was hard to say what he thought of him. It was a formal meeting with many people around and Eiji had done this sort of thing enough to know that Yut Lung had been coached into saying what he should. He talked about how he would love to ride horses with him, that he heard he won all sorts of competitions. How he had a way with plants and would love to help tend to his garden back in the castle. 

 

He appeared to be--as Eiji previously presumed--the perfect husband to rule his country with. He had class, he had manners, he had brains. Marriage to him would help relations in  _ three _ kingdoms. He could honestly do more of the ruling in regards to hard policy, while Eiji could focus more on the people. Yet everything about him seemed... _ too  _ perfectly crafted. He didn’t feel  _ real _ to him. 

 

For that reason, when the time came for him to leave the estate he said farewell with an indirect yet entirely clear, “I’ll look forward to seeing you again at the ball.”

 

\---

 

Ash was called down after the prince left. He didn’t respond. Dino was distracted by all the goings on that he let him be.

 

The following morning, Dino called for him again. He still didn’t answer. He called again. Not a single acknowledgment.

 

Dino having to go up the stairs to the attic never ended well. Ash should come when he is called. It was beneath Dino to have to go up there. Ash knew better than to let it get to that point. Yet on this morning when he heard Dino banging on his door angrily, he couldn’t even bring himself to care. The door was locked, but it didn’t really matter. Afterall, Dino had a key.

 

Ash raised his head towards Dino, but didn’t get up from where he sat on the bed. When Dino angrily rushed over to him, he didn’t flinch.

 

“Why haven’t you answered me?” Dino demanded. Ash didn’t respond, merely looking down at his lap. Dino slapped him. 

 

\---

 

As royalty, Eiji was an honorary guest at the palace. He was given a grand guest room of his own in the palace that wasn’t that unlike his own, albeit styled fashionably to the trends of this kingdom. He much preferred staying at the little inn, but he wasn’t going to be rude and protest the very generous accommodations. 

 

He joined the royal family for breakfast, which felt rather odd to him. He wasn’t sure if it was dining with the royalty of the warring kingdom or merely that he was no longer used to dining in a family setting in general. It was a very large family with the King and Queen, their young son, and all the princes and princesses that made up their extended family. He felt out of place.

 

“We hope everything is on par with your standards,” the King greeted him as they were served.

 

“Of course!” Eiji nodded feverently, “Thank you very much for your generosity.”

 

“It’s no problem,” the King smiled, “Despite the differences between our kingdoms, we have only ever heard good things about you. Truth be told, we expected when you grew old enough that with you our kingdoms would find peace.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Eiji bowed his head respectfully. He took a bite of the ham he was given for breakfast. It was a lot more tough and tasteless than what he always ate back home.

 

“What did you think of Yut Lung?” the Queen asked with some coyness in her voice, “Do you think he’ll work for you?”

 

Eiji looked at his plate. “He is very kind and polite. I think he would make a good husband, but…”

 

“But?” the Queen asked.

 

He thought of Ash. How  _ real _ he felt compared to Yut Lung. The green in his eyes that sparkled, unlike Yut Lung’s that felt dull. The weird butterflies that seemed to float around in his stomach just thinking about Ash, while with Yut Lung...nothing. The sweetness of Ash’s voice even if he said something rude, unlike Yut Lung’s voice that felt inhuman.

 

“I think I will decide after the ball,” Eiji finally said.

 

“Of course we are happy to have a celebratory ball,” the King frowned slightly, “But are you going to use that as a sort of matchmaking service?”

 

“Is that wrong?” Eiji asked genuinely.

 

“No, it’s not,” the Queen insisted, “Shall we invite every eligible nobleman in the kingdom?”

 

“No,” Eiji shook his head.

 

“More selective?”

 

“No!” he said a bit more forcefully than he intended. He blushed slightly at the surprised looks from those around the table. He took a breath and continued, “ _ All _ the eligible men.”

 

\---

 

“Please don’t kill him,” Ash stood in the hallway with his head low.

 

“How  _ dare _ you speak like this?” Dino scowled, “Afterall, it is  _ your _ plan we are following.”

 

“I know,” Ash swallowed, “But there are other ways. Have Yut Lung marry him and be the puppet government. I don’t care, anything. We just...We  _ can’t  _ kill him.”

 

Dino walked to Ash, hovering over him with very little space in between them. “This isn’t like you,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “You have helped me cause the death of hundreds of people. You orchestrated this. Why the sudden change of heart?”

 

“I just...I don’t think this is right.”

 

Dino laughed.

 

\---

 

Although peace talks were important and something Eiji wanted, the actual politics of them were incredibly boring. Thankfully, he had Ibe with him to discuss a lot of the important matters while his head was allowed to be up in the clouds.

 

In a lot of ways, Eiji realized over the course of his life so far that royalty acted more as figureheads anyway. Sure, his will was given too much credit for things like war and peace, but a lot of the actual goings on of kingdoms were far more carried out by advisors. Well, not for  _ all _ of them, some were incredibly versed in politics...but not him.

 

He wondered if Ash would be the type of king who would be able to truly rule without relying on advisors for everything.

 

The talks discussed the end of the war. How the battles would be ended, how prisoners of war would be returned, how war criminals would be handled. There were also issues of trade, how they would resume once relations were normalized once more. All things that were incredibly boring to him.

 

Of course, they also had to discuss things with multiple outcomes, based on whether or not Eiji would marry someone from this kingdom. He heard it in their voices, the suppressed annoyance at his unwillingness to commit. If he were to marry, it would be much simpler, they’d say. It would bind them much more tightly, they’d say. It’s much more difficult to come up with two possibilities instead of just one, they’d say.

 

“I said I’m not sure if I wanted to marry  _ him _ . If I find someone different at the ball, then I’ll marry him. If I don’t…” Eiji frowned and let out a sigh, “I’ll marry Yut Lung.”

 

“Are you sure?” Ibe’s eyes grew large.

 

“I’m sure.”

 

\---

 

Ash was locked in the attic for misbehavior, but of course that never stopped him before. As he had dozens of times, if not more, he merely scaled down from the window and went under the hidden hole beneath the gate.

 

“You were right,” Ash said numbly in the middle of Shorter’s empty shop.

 

“So you saw the prince, huh?” Shorter frowned.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You really  _ didn’t  _ know.”

 

“Yes,” the word nearly got caught in his throat.

 

“I’m sorry Ash,” Shorter gave a look of total sympathy as he sat down on in one of the chairs, “I don’t know what I can really say about this.”

 

Ash's head shot up, his eyes full of determination. “Help me save him.”

 

“Didn’t you just say there was nothing you  _ could _ do?” Shorter sighed heavily, “You’re the one always saying you can’t go against Dino yet.”

 

“I can’t let them kill him, Shorter,” his voice cracked. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes felt heavy, as if they could form tears in any moment.

 

Shorter’s eyes grew wide. “That’s not the Ash I usually know. He must mean a lot to you.”

 

“He does,” Ash replied. It felt harder for him to breathe. “I can’t really explain it but...he does.”

 

Shorter paused for a moment, looking Ash down for a few moments as if deciding what to make of this mess. “Alright,” he finally nodded, standing back up. “What do you have in mind?”

 

\---

 

The people of this kingdom were surprisingly friendly and welcoming to Eiji. Having been at war with them, of course he had heard terrible stories about them as propaganda. He already knew they weren’t like that during his time blending in, but even as Prince Eiji he was accepted with open arms.

 

It made him wonder if he was silly to have ever worried that this diplomatic mission was dangerous in the first place. 

 

When the ball was announced inviting  _ everyone _ noble or otherwise, and it was more than implied that Eiji was looking to find a spouse, all the people in the land became incredibly excited. Many of the girls fantasized about becoming a princess and had their hopes dashed when it was announced he was only looking for a husband.

 

The ball preparations went fully underway quite quickly. He saw many a people running about chattering about it, buying the proper outfit, and deciding what they'd say. Within the palace there were talks of food, decorations, and so forth that Eiji’s input was asked for, but as someone not picky, he couldn’t find himself really invested in it.

 

He didn’t see Ash again. It was odd, he saw so many people about that it seemed like he saw  _ everyone _ except for him. He could only hope that he would come to the ball. He could easily imagine it--Ash arriving and sweeping him off his feet once more. The two would dance the night away, laughing at talking. Eiji would confess that he was who he had been waiting for, the reason he wanted to hold this ball afterall. He would propose to him and the two would live happily ever after like a fairytale.

 

If not, he would have no choice but to marry Yut Lung.

 

\---

 

“I’m not sure if this’ll work,” Bones tilted his head.

 

“Well, we have to try,” Ash frowned.

 

“Yes, but you have to see if it doesn’t we’re going to be in more trouble than you can imagine,” Alex piped in, “We’re risking a lot for this, especially when just a few days ago you were talking all about how you were perfectly willing to kill this prince guy.”

 

Ash opened his mouth to retaliate, but Shorter cut him off. “C’mon guys, Ash knows what he’s doing. Have some faith in him.” Ash gave him a small smile of thanks.

 

To be fair, Alex and Bones weren’t wrong. It was an incredibly risky task they were trying to do. Sneaking into the palace late at night and trying to fake an assassination attempt wasn’t exactly a fool proof thing to do.

 

Ash would sneak in and get caught in what would look like an assassination attempt. Eiji would wake up in time and would know what happened. Perhaps he would even make himself known to Eiji, hitting home more that he couldn’t trust him. He would flee the kingdom for his safety, knowing that he could no longer trust the people here.

 

Of course it was cruel. Of course it would keep relations between the two kingdoms terrible. Yet Eiji would be safe.

 

He did think about merely warning Eiji, but he knew that wouldn’t work. Even if  _ Eiji _ believed him, there was no reason why anyone else would believe Eiji. He needed there to be a very clear threat on his life that there would be no choice but  _ to _ leave.

 

It was already late that night. They had planned it for a while now, and now that the ball was quickly approaching they had to cancel it  _ now _ . Dino had made it incredibly clear that Ash was going to be heavily guarded at all times during the ball, making sure there was absolutely no chance of him going. He knew it was true, he wouldn’t likely be able to sneak out his usual way the night of it. If he did, he would just be recognized immediately anyway.

 

“It’s as dark,” Ash noted, looking up at the pitch black sky, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The king and queen are who you might think they are. Originally it was overt and they were more fleshed out, but I figured having cameos shoehorned in that didn't contribute to much only bogged down the story, especially this late in the game. Still kept a couple nods to it though.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half of what was once one chapter. Abuse warning for this chapter.

The way to the castle would be quite far by foot. Even though it was visible from most of the town, it was up on the mountain overlooking it. Especially with elevation in mind, it was much further than it looked. Thankfully, however, Shorter had a cart and donkey used for his shop that they could all use and hide in.

 

Not everyone in their group would be able to go, given the size of the cart. It would just be five of them--Shorter who would drive the cart, Ash who was a given, as well as Alex, Bones, and Kong. The latter three would help support, be it distracting the guards, getting Ash through the windows, and so forth. They had a blanket thrown over them and had to stay down and remain as still and quiet as possible.

 

It wasn’t the most thought out plan. He was acting on impulse. But he didn’t care. 

 

“I trust you and all, but I really hope you know what you’re doing,” Kong said as the four of them were pressed together inside the cart.

 

He didn’t.

 

When they finally arrived, there were naturally guards blocking the roadway leading to it. Shorter claimed that he had a late night delivery for the ball. Ash held his breath, hoping it would work and that they wouldn’t ask to see what he had. However, Shorter delivered things quite frequently to the castle. The guards knew him by name. Without much hesitation, they let him pass.

 

Shorter, knowing the castle grounds decently well, was able to find a place not frequently ventured that would be shadowed by the dark. Once he knew it was safe, he uncovered the cart

 

“Kong, Bones,” Ash said handing over some masks, “I need you two to go into the castle and create a diversion. Lure guards away from Eich--Prince Eiji’s room. Got it?”

 

“Got it,” Bones nodded, putting on the full face masquerade mask. Kong likewise did with a small nod. The two weren’t going to do anything that would get them in serious legal trouble, but instead be nuisances. They might get a slap on the wrist for being bothersome, but with their lives they’ve done that plenty of times before already. The only danger was being linked to what Ash was planning on doing, which was why the masks would hopefully let them get away without their identities being revealed.

 

“Alex, you’re coming with me,” Ash said.

 

“Understood,” Alex nodded. He would remain near him and watch his back.

 

“And Shorter, you’re waiting for us here.”

 

“Just as planned,” Shorter gave a thumbs up. He was to wait there with the cart to help them all make a getaway.

 

“Alright then,” Ash carefully examined the blade he had with him, “Let’s get going then.”

 

\---

 

“Eichan,” Ibe greeted Eiji at the entrance of his guest bedroom as he was about to blow out the candle to sleep for the night.

 

“Hello,” Eiji greeted him with a smile. They had been together at all the important diplomatic style talks, but otherwise they were both incredibly busy and barely had a quiet moment together to talk like usual.

 

“I don’t mean to bother you if you’re about to go to sleep. I just wanted to check up on you before I go to sleep,” he said as he stayed in the doorway.

 

“Of course not,” Eiji motioned for him to come in, “You’re someone always welcome.”

 

Ibe smiled and went to sit beside him on his bed. “I know I’ve scolded you a lot since you left home, and I still don’t approve of you sneaking out. But I just want to let you know that I think you’re handling this all very well.”

 

“Thank you,” his smile grew sweeter.

 

“You’ll make a fine king some day.”

 

Eiji’s eyes grew large. “Thank you,” he said again.

 

“I mean it. I know you found someone you thought you loved, but you’ve shown that you’re willing to put that aside and marry someone else for the sake of the world. That shows a lot about your character.”

 

“I guess,” Eiji sighed, “Though political marriages are normal for royalty. If anything, I’ve been selfish.”

 

Ibe laughed slightly under his breath. “We should both go to sleep,” he said standing up. As he walked to the doorway once more, he paused and turned around. “I hope for you that he comes to the ball.”

 

“Ash?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Ibe smiled, “You deserve happiness with someone you love.”

 

\---

 

“We have no interest in court jesters  _ period _ , let alone in the middle of the night,” the guard frowned.

 

“Why not?” Bones asked, “The King has no sense of humor?”

 

“The King likes to sleep at a decent hour,” the guard frowned.

 

“Well maybe he’ll change his mind with us,” Bones smiled his big toothless grin.

 

“I somehow doubt that,” the guard gave a look of disgust.

 

Alex rolled his eyes from where they hid from behind the bushes, but Ash merely paid attention to the fact that the guards were distracted and grabbed Alex’s arm to use the opening to slip in a side door.

 

Ash may have never been in the palace, but he knew the exact layouts. Many mappings and floorplans of it had been shown in Dino’s meeting. He knew exactly where Eiji would be staying. The largest guest room always and exclusively housed the most esteemed of guests. It would be up the grand staircase, which would be hard to get passed unseen. Thankfully, with all the guests amongst the palace they could hopefully get by. 

 

One would think in this case there would be heightened security, which to an extent there was, but the many new faces made it much harder to keep track of people. The only real risk was people on Dino’s side recognizing  _ Ash _ , which was part of why Alex was there to remain in front of him and obscure his face from view if possible. They passed a few servants, Alex nodding politely to them without raising suspicion. Ash remained close to him with his head down, his blade tied to the waist of his pants concealed by the hem of his shirt.

 

Once they reached the third floor of the castle, where Ash knew the bedroom to be, he told Alex to split off from him to keep watch and find ways to prevent people from. After Ash did what he needed to however, Alex was to avoid himself getting caught up in everything and instead stay around and blend in with the castle, getting out later on his own.

 

“See you soon,” Alex told him, “And good luck.”

 

“Thanks,” Ash responded genuinely.

 

Just as they broke off and Ash ventured down the hallway, two armored guards ran passed him saying to each other “You gotta see this!” Ash rolled his eyes slightly, but was relieved that Bones and Kong were doing their jobs making a spectacle out of themselves. Who knew, maybe they’d make it big being court jesters for real. 

 

He shook his head. He really didn’t have time to dwell on that. He needed to focus on the task at hand as he ventured down the long hallway. The palace was absolutely huge, somehow dwarfing the mansion of an estate that was Dino’s. Still, it wasn’t long until he made it to the doorway.

 

It was large and grand, but he knew guest rooms had no lock. Heart pounding in his chest, he reached for his blade and held it in his trembling left hand. A few moments later, with his right hand, he reached for the round golden doorknob. He turned it slightly, quietly opening it as to not make a noise. Hesitantly, he began to open the door.

 

A hand came down on his shoulder like a falling stone, causing him to jump. The slightly ajar door closed back shut a little too loudly.

 

“You’re a long way from the estate,” a voice said to him. Ash didn’t need to look to see who it was.

 

It was Dino.

 

\---

 

“Good morning, Prince Eiji,” one of the castle’s handmaidens greeted him as he arose the next morning. She opened the curtains, allowing the golden sunlight of dawn to seep into his room. He yawned with a large stretch as he sat up. 

 

“Good morning,” he greeted her in return with a tired smile. She merely giggled as she went to lay out his clothes for the day--an outfit that was a present from the King and Queen themselves, and politely excused herself.

 

“Eichan,” Ibe greeted him from the doorway, just as the handmaiden left.

 

“Good morning,” Eiji nodded, moving his legs to sit at the side of the bed, “Any new developments since last night?”

 

“No not really,” he answered, “Although apparently some wannabe jesters came and entertained the guards really late last night before the captain of the guard shooed them away.”

 

“Sad I missed it,” Eiji chuckled. 

 

“No, it’s good you got your sleep,” Ibe assured him, “The ball is just a few days away now. We’re going to be really busy until then.”

 

“You’re right,” Eiji stood up from the bed, stretching once more as he did. He walked over to the window the handmaiden opened up to look out. “It’s a shame we’re so busy, though,” he mused as he stared out at the castle gardens below, the flowers now in full spring bloom, “It’s going to be such a beautiful day.”

 

\---

 

Dino hit Ash once more, the force of it causing him to fall to the ground. With shaky limbs, he forced himself to sit up, looking Dino directly in the face. They were in the cellar, a place that Dino frequently used to interrogate prisoners. Ash himself had been forced to witness and even partake in such in the past, though never before had he angered Dino enough to see himself become the victim.

 

“I’m going to ask one more time,” Dino said in a cold voice, “Who helped you?”

 

“No one,” he responded, looking at the older man dead in the eyes.

 

“Liar!” Dino’s tone grew more angry as he shoved him to the ground again.

 

“What, you think after all you’ve trained me I’m not capable of pulling something like that off on my own?” Ash tried to keep his pride and respond in a snarky tone. It felt fake and forced to him, but it was all he could do to keep himself composed.

 

“I  _ thought _ I trained someone who wouldn’t betray me like this. I was so blindsided by you, that I almost didn’t believe Youssis when he came to me saying he saw you slip out through the window,” Dino looked down on him with eyes like daggers, “If you will not tell me who helped you, at least answer this--Why are you attempting to thwart your own plan we have spent so long on? Could it have been you rigged it from the start?”

 

“No!” Ash insisted vehemently, “I helped you with the plan with full intent to carry it out.”

 

“Then explain to me.”

 

“I  _ told _ you,” Ash found his voice shaking, “We can’t...We can’t kill the prince.”

 

Dino walked over and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forcing him up. “Explain to me why,” he demanded.

 

Ash felt cold, and the grip Dino had made it hard to breathe, though he couldn’t determine whether it was from the pressure of his collar on his neck or the intense fear that shot through him. When he didn’t respond, Dino shook him and gripped tighter.

 

“I told you,” Ash felt tears begin to form in his eyes, “We just can’t...There has to be another way.”

 

Dino didn’t seem the least bit fazed by that answer. Instead, he dropped Ash to the ground, his head hitting the floor with a hard thump. He signaled out for one of his men who unbeknownst to Ash had been waiting at the stairway. He walked over to Dino as instructed and handed him something that Ash couldn’t make out, especially with the way his vision blurred from the impact of the fall.

 

“We found this in the attic,” he told him. It was then that Ash realized that they were pieces of paper.  _ His letters. _

 

“No!” Ash yelled, losing his composure, “Give those to me!”

 

Dino looked the letters over carefully, with a look of utter disgust. “I see you’ve been keeping these from me. You have been betraying me for longer than I thought.”

 

“Please!” tears ran down Ash’s face, his tone becoming uncharacteristically desperate, “They’re from my brother. They’re all I have left of him.”

 

Dino eyed the torch in the corner, lit by a bright flame. “They should have been gotten rid of a long time ago,” he said looking back at Ash, “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t  _ after _ you have proven to betray me.” Ash couldn’t respond. Dino grimaced and walked over to the torch, ever so slowly lifting the old papers up to the flame.

 

“Wait!” Ash called out moments before they touched the fire, “I’ll tell you why.”

 

“I’m listening,” Dino gave a wicked smirk, bringing the papers down.

 

“It’s because…” Ash found his chest heavy. As he hesitated, Dino’s hand twitched again, causing Ash to spit out, “It’s because I met him!”

 

“You met him?” he raised an eyebrow.

 

“I didn’t know it was him,” Ash lowered his head in shame, “But when I was out in town...I met him.”

 

“That’s not possible,” Dino scowled, “He wasn’t--”

 

“He came early,” Ash insisted, “He used a fake name and tried to blend in to see what our kingdom was like. I thought he was just a normal traveler and I…”

 

“And you?”

 

“Please, don’t kill him,” he begged, “I don’t care if you kill me for this. Just please...let him go.”

 

Dino put the letters to the flame, slowly letting the fire engulf them into ashes that fell to the ground by his feet.

 

“I’m sending you back to the whore house,” Dino informed him, “And don’t think I’m going to come for you in a few days like I have before. You have exhausted too many chances, and it is time you pay once and for all for your insolence.”

 

Ash could barely focus on what Dino said as he looked at the burnt remnants of the letter on the ground. After all these years of keeping them, of hiding them, they were gone. Griff was finally gone.

 

“And don’t you think about that prince anymore,” Dino called out to him as he began to exit the cellar, “I’m going to see to it that Youssis concocts the most slow and painful poison for him to drink at the ball.”

 

Ash was left alone in the cellar. He knew it wouldn’t be long until Dino would arrange for his people to come back for him and take him away. Yet for the time being, all he could do was lay there in the dark, cold room.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to space out updates, but I've mostly finished this story and more or less want it out and done. Expect it to be completed in a week or two.


	14. Chapter 14

As the sun came up the morning of the ball, it was clear it was going to be another beautiful day. It was late spring, the weather not yet too hot and fresh flowers in bloom that were carted in to decorate the castle.

 

Peace talks had gone very well. Neither kingdom’s monarchy had any interest in continuing the war. When the ball was finished, Prince Eiji and the monarchy would go to his kingdom to sign the formal agreements in the presence of the ill king, Eiji’s father. Then they were to likely have another ball in his own kingdom, celebrating official peace at last.

 

It was hard for Eiji to see what could go wrong at this point. All the skepticism, all the lack of trust he had of people seemed unwarranted. He had just been overly paranoid. This kingdom was incredibly lovely, and despite him being the figurehead of the place they had been warring with, they had come to absolutely adore him. The King and Queen themselves even hugged him and said that he had become like another son to them.

 

“You were right, Eichan. Everything is going perfectly,” Ibe smiled at him that morning as he passed by. Eiji was stuck with one of the princesses, approving which set of fine china to use--a very boring task in Eiji’s mind, so Ibe’s words broke him out of his bored mentality.

 

“Thank you,” he smiled back. Everything  _ did _ seem nearly perfect.  The only thing required was for Ash to show up at the ball tonight.

 

\---

 

The oppressive sunlight glared straight into Ash’s eyes as he slept on the bed he shared with several other boys. In this place, working largely at night, mornings were the time given to sleep, but they weren’t given even the cheapest cloth to use as a curtain to block out the sun aimed directly for their barred window.

 

He had been here before, so it was nothing new. This was where he lived before he went to live with Dino so long ago. He ran this place afterall. He had taken an interest in Ash rather quickly, and eventually after requesting him so many times, he brought him to his place to live. He had come back a good number of times when Dino became angry with him. In both cases, he hadn’t really expected to leave.

 

Yet this time, it was still different. Even though he felt stuck there before, it was this time that the permanence of it really struck his heart. Perhaps because he had lived for so long expecting to get away from Dino, to eventually become free.

 

He also lost those he cared about. His letters that he kept close to him for so long. 

 

The prince who had been so kind to him was going to die via a plan that he himself selfishly orchestrated.

 

Perhaps he deserved it, he figured. Afterall, he had played along with Dino’s games for so long. He had blood on his hands. He had participated in the harm of hundreds if not thousands of people. Causing the deaths of so many faceless people who were loved by someone, perhaps it was karma for it to finally end up affecting someone  _ he _ cared about.

 

No, he thought. Perhaps he deserved to be where he was for that, but he decided the notion of that being karma was wrong. Eiji didn’t deserve this.

 

He may have just ruined his life with a botched attempt at saving Eiji’s life, but he didn’t regret it. Sure, he only met him a few times, yet in his heart it felt like he had known him for much longer. Maybe no one would understand, but he had no regrets for trying to save Eiji. He only wished he had been successful and not put him in this mess in the first place.

 

He knew it was the day of the ball. The man he was with last night mentioned it, and he knew a lot of Dino’s men who ran the place intended to go. It was an exciting event--the kingdom hadn’t had many balls since the war started so long ago--so even those with no interest in politics or intent on marrying Eiji were excited. Of course, for Dino’s men, there was the added bonus of witnessing the theatrical death of the prince.

 

He didn’t cry. He felt like he had lost the ability to.

 

\---

 

Yut Lung was to be dressed and prepared for the ball from very early in the morning. When the sun was just barely rising above the horizon, Dino came personally to wake him in his room surrounded by several servants. His room was quite grand--not quite as nice as Dino’s but scores better than the attic Ash had frequently slept in. Of course, this was once Ash’s room.

 

“We have much to do today,” Dino said plainly. He wasn’t going to let him sleep in any longer nor even let him take his time to get up. He merely yawned and suppressed his exhaustion as best he could, as quickly as he could. 

 

He was bathed thoroughly, his hair and skin  made silky smooth and soaked in the sweetest and most expensive perfumes Dino could come by. Usually he had a single servant girl help bathe him, but this time Dino saw to it that a handful of servants scrubbed down every inch of him.

 

His outfit was being shipped in and matched the style of the country from where he was born--a gift from his brothers, pleased that the youngest among them had potentially proven to be useful after lifelong low expectations. It was a very expensive and well made outfit, more expensive than the regular expensive clothes Dino frequently had him in. It was far more feminine than the outfit that he wore when he first met Prince Eiji, but it was said that hopefully it would help him stand out. Dino had been incredibly disappointed that he didn’t immediately steal his heart upon first meeting.

 

Yut Lung examined himself in the long mirror. The outfit fit him like a glove. Still…

 

“Is this really necessary, given that you intend on me to simply execute the prince tonight?” he asked, looking back over at Dino.

 

“If only we had known earlier that Ash was a traitor, perhaps,” Dino mused, “However, yes it is still important.”

 

“But why? I don’t have to look nice to kill someone.”

 

“You still need to get close to him. You need to lure him in, for him to become completely infatuated with you. The more it is clear he has fallen for you, the harder the fall will be when he chokes on the poison.”

 

“I suppose,” Yut Lung replied emotionlessly, putting a still damp strand of hair behind his ear.

 

\---

 

Eiji was dressed up in his formal attire far too early in his opinion. It was a very ceremonial outfit from his kingdom, only worn for the most special of occasions. Because of that, it was incredibly heavy, full of completely unnecessary medals, sashes, and other pointless embellishments that made it a chore to walk. 

 

“You look incredible,” his servant told him, “We are absolutely honored to have you representing our kingdom.”

 

“You’ll make a fine king one day,” Ibe added with a warm smile. He too was dressed up already, wearing his most formal court outfit--yet much less heavy and more comfortable looking than the one Eiji was supposed to wear, he noted jealousy. Eiji looked at himself in the full body mirror. He was dressed up a lot, but his was a step up even for him. He barely recognized the person looking back at him.

 

“Thank you,” he gave a fake smile.

 

“I should tell you though,” Ibe said in a more sober voice.

 

“Oh?” Eiji asked, turning around despite the weight of his outfit threatening his mobility.

 

“I asked the King and Queen themselves,” he confessed, “They too didn’t know of anyone named Ash...or anyone of a different name that fit your description.”

 

“Oh,” Eiji’s face fell.

 

“But you never know,” Ibe tried to say with forced enthusiasm, “You don’t know the  _ vast _ majority of your subjects. He still might come.”

 

“I hope so,” Eiji sighed, looking back at the stranger in the mirror.

 

\---

 

It was announced during their afternoon meal that the brothel wasn’t going to be open that night due to the ball. Too many in charge going met with a low demand due to potential customers being there. It was a sigh of relief, especially to the youngest children there.

 

Of course, it was still going to be heavily guarded to prevent escape, much like a prison. Ash knew better than to think he could get out. The windows were barred, the doors locked, and if you were thought of as a potential fight risk you’d be chained to your bed. Of course, with Ash he felt he had nothing more to lose--who cares about the likely disastrous outcome for himself if at least he tried.

 

Though, as he knew, it wouldn’t just affect himself. If he got caught, all of them would be punished. If he actually did flee, it would be even worse for those left behind. He may not care about himself, but looking at the sad faces of the children forced there, he couldn’t betray them through his actions. Not even for Eiji.

 

He also knew that even if he  _ did _ sneak out to the ball and returned safely before any of the guards noticed, he would be recognized immediately upon arrival at the castle. Too many of Dino’s men--Dino  _ himself _ would spot him,  _ especially _ if he tried to go and warn Eiji. He always knew this, and it was why he never really considered going to the ball himself as a viable plan.

 

He wished he could contact Shorter. He would be willing to swallow his pride and reveal the life he had fallen into if he could contact him and get him to help. But he knew it wasn’t possible, and even if it was it would likely only incriminate him.

 

There was nothing he could do. 

 

When Dino’s men that ran the place announced they were leaving early that evening, Ash and the others were told to all gather about to see them out. They were dressed nice, but not nearly as nice as he expected the nobles to be.

 

He tried not to think about where they were going. There was nothing he could do at this point. As they rode off in their carriages, the guards prompted them to all go back to their room. A particularly young boy grabbed Ash’s hand tightly--an unexpected gesture, but one he didn’t fight. It was only when they got back to their room that he let go.

 

“What do you think the ball is like, Ash?” the boy asked him.

 

Ash’s eyes grew wide, surprised by the question from the child. “I’m not sure,” he said, “I’ve never been to a royal ball at the castle.”

 

“But you’ve been to fancy events before, haven’t you?” another boy a few years older asked.

 

“I guess,” he shrugged with a frown, “Nothing exciting though. Pretty boring stuff, really.”

 

“But the ball  _ has _ to be exciting,” the first boy’s eyes glowed.

 

“Why do you think that?” Ash asked.

 

“Don’t play things down like that,” a boy closer to Ash’s age criticized, “We all know you got to do all sorts of things none of us can.”

 

“Well, that’s not the case anymore.”

 

“Still, what do you think the ball is like?” the little boy asked, eyes still glittering.

 

“Hey, maybe he doesn’t wanna talk about it,” a new voice piped in, “He just got thrown back in here, he might not want to think about what he’s missin’ out on.”

 

“It’s fine,” Ash assured him, “I understand wanting to fantasize about things.”

 

“So?” the little boy pressed. Some of the other boys gathered around, eager looks on their faces as they expected a story.

 

“Well, like I said, I’ve never been to a real ball,” Ash closed his eyes deep in thought, “But…”

 

“But?!” the younger ones pushed. Ash considered what he should say. Was it cruel to tell these kids stories of better lives they could never live? Fairytales never helped him. Yet, as he saw the anticipation on the faces of kids whose lives were absolute hell, he couldn’t turn them down now.

 

“Well, people are probably all dressed up. Men in nicely tailored outfits, women in expensive dresses with their hair all done. The ballroom, I would imagine, is also all nice and decorated.”

 

“And the famous people are all there, right?”

 

“Naturally,” Ash smirked, “The King and Queen would sit on their throne, overseeing everything, while the princes and princesses all mingle around. Not just them, but the dukes, duchesses, anyone who is anyone is there.”

 

“And Prince Eiji!” a kid added with a big grin.

 

Ash’s smirk fell. “Yeah, him too.”

 

“Have you ever seen him?” a kid asked.

 

“He’s…” Ash closed his eyes again, but in his mind he clearly saw Eiji’s smiling face. A smiling face that had no idea what was in store for him.

 

“He’s?”

 

“Yes, I’ve met him, actually,” Ash opened his eyes.

 

“What’s he like?! Like the stories? I hear he’s SUPER nice.”

 

“Even better,” Ash gave a small, sad smile.

 

“Better?!” some of the boys exclaimed in unison. Some of the older boys laughed at them.

 

“Yeah,” Ash told them, “Like they all say, he’s extremely kind, handsome...he is exactly how a prince  _ should _ be, which is to say nothing like most royals. He doesn’t think of himself as special for being a prince, which I think goes to show given how he insisted on commoners being invited.”

 

“Do you think he’d judge  _ us _ ?” one asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Ash answered honestly. He wanted to think that he wouldn’t. That Eiji wouldn’t be disgusted with what he was. But he couldn’t assume that. Even if by force, they were prostitutes. The absolute lowest of the low in society, especially in this awful place. 

 

“I don’t think so,” another said, “He seems too kindhearted and understanding. I think if he knew what was going on here, he’d free us!”

 

Tears pooled in Ash’s eyes unexpectedly. He thought he had run out of tears. The children hardly noticed. The younger ones merely got up and started to play, pretending they themselves were at the ball with Prince Eiji.

 

“Thank you for saving us, Prince Eiji,” a boy said to a broom they had decided would represent the prince.

How did they do this? How were these kids, who lived through absolute hell with no freedom or not future, able to play pretend so jovally like this? How were they able to remain so hopeful? Didn’t they know that they weren’t going to ever get out of this? What will they think when they find out in the morning that Prince Eiji has been killed? The tears that had formed around his eyes started falling down his cheeks. 

 

He had to go to the ball. He had to rescue Eiji.

 

But it wasn’t possible.

 

It hurt. It hurt his chest so much that he almost wondered if something was physically wrong with his heart.

 

“Are you alright, Ash?”

 

“I’m fine,” he lied, “I’m just...I just need to get some space for a little while.”

 

“Alright,” the other answered sympathetically.

 

There weren’t many options for where Ash could go. They were locked in, afterall, and he didn’t want to deal with the irate guards who wished to take out on him the fact they weren’t at the ball. Still, he needed fresh air. There was a small garden area just outside, yet fenced in. He would get in trouble for going there if caught, but not in terms of trying to run away. Probably. The door to it wasn’t guarded, though in his emotional state he didn’t pay as much attention to whether anyone else was there as he should have. 

 

It was a very small patch of land, but he didn’t care. It was free from the suffocating air from inside the brothel. He was alone. The gate was too high to climb and too rocky at the ground to escape, but he could see through the bars. As he gripped the bars, he could see the castle, all bright and lit up for the ball.

 

“I’m sorry, Eiji,” Ash sobbed, “It’s all my fault.” 

 

He felt his knees give out through his trembling, and he slowly fell to his knees. He didn’t care that his pants were going to be suspiciously dirty. He only cared about one thing, but there was nothing he could do about it.

 

“Please,” he wept, “Somebody,  _ anyone _ . Please... _ help me _ .”

 

“I feared you’d never ask.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

The ball wasn’t nearly as exciting as Eiji had hoped.

 

Sure, it was nice. Very nice, in fact. People from both kingdoms had gone above and beyond to make sure of that. Every inch of the castle was cleaned and decorated with only the finest and brand new things. The tables were decorated in cloths of pure silk, rugs from faraway lands laid out, even the napkins and ribbons were so very carefully selected.

 

The food was also of the best quality. Servers came by giving food and drink on small plates, to which Eiji would graciously take. The kingdom’s finest chefs had been slaving away for days to make sure everything was perfect. Cuisine of both kingdoms were mixed together to represent the peace and harmony that was to start between the two.

 

The guests...by all accounts, Eiji was happy with the guests on a surface level. There were of course the nobility and rich who wore the finest clothes in all the land and treated him with the utmost respect. They stuck their noses at many of the commoners who showed up in...less expensive clothing, but Eiji himself was thrilled by their presence. He thought it should be a party for the people, so seeing them there made him smile. He also quickly found that they were far more interesting conversation partners.

 

The problem was, he was  _ expected  _ to speak to nobility. Just when he’d strike up an interesting conversation, he would be pulled away to talk to a duke of a faraway country who could only talk about himself. Or a princess who complained that they would not be able to get the stench of commoner out of the palace for weeks. Or boring talks about politics he couldn’t care less about.

 

Ibe was there, of course. However, he too was constantly whisked away to talk to someone important, that Eiji could hardly get in a word with him. He supposed it was fine--he was here for relations with a foreign kingdom, sticking to his friend from his home country wasn’t the best course of action. Still, despite all the people there, he found himself feeling incredibly lonely.

 

Yut Lung came, as was expected. Fashionably late, of course, with a grand entrance to bring all attention onto him. He did look quite nice, wearing an elegant outfit that looked foreign to both kingdoms and had his hair every bit as neatly styled as when he first met him. He had the same coy smile on his face, the same courteous tone towards him. Yet this time, there was an odd feeling that Eiji couldn’t shake. After a few minutes of conversation, he realized what it was. Despite his smile and attempts at flirting, his eyes were like dark pits. Not in terms of color, though they were physically dark, but in terms of...soul. He always felt like a programed doll to him, but the absolutely dead look in his eyes unsettled him to his core.

 

Not to mention, on a romantic level, he didn’t feel...anything. Yut Lung strategically brushed their hands together, but it didn’t do anything for Eiji. It was no different than feeling the hand of a family member. He was beautiful but the attraction simply wasn’t there.

 

Of course, others didn’t seem to notice Eiji’s lack of attraction. There were smirks and giggles towards them, as well as vocalized comments on the two of them noticeably spending so much time together. It confused Eiji. 

 

“Don’t worry about their gossip,” Yut Lung gave him a flirtatious smile.

 

“I’m not,” Eiji answered honestly and a little more emotionlessly than he intended. Yut Lung’s coy smile faded for a mere moment before he put it back on.

 

“Well, regardless,” he reached up his hand and with a long finger stroked Eiji’s arm, “I wouldn’t mind going somewhere to get away from their prying eyes. Somewhere more...private.”

 

“No, I’m fine here,” Eiji blinked. Yut Lung scowled, bringing his hand away. Eiji realize what he did. “I’m sorry!” he apologized, “I don’t mean it as a... _ rejection _ , I just...I think want to remain around everyone...for now.” It was a lie, of course, and Eiji was pretty sure Yut Lung saw right through it.

 

“I see,” he narrowed his eyes. With a slight exhale, he smiled his fake smile again, “Then! Shall I get us both a drink?”

 

“Alright,” Eiji tilted his head. With that, Yut Lung went into the crowd.

 

Eiji didn’t wait for him to return. It was uncharacteristically rude, but in reality he agreed not because he wanted a drink, but because he wanted to get away from him. Something about him just made him incredibly uncomfortable, and he was half paranoid that he’d come back with a poisoned drink or something. Well, probably not  _ poison _ but probably spat in.

 

To be honest, he was also looking for someone.

 

Ash was nowhere to be seen. He had stood from a distance and looked for any blond males of the approximate height and age, noble and commoner alike. He approached a few cautiously he thought from a distance might be him, but they always turned out to be someone else. It was incredibly crowded, not to mention that there were still people arriving, but every moment that passed that he wasn’t there hurt him. 

 

Perhaps Ash was mad that he was lied to. Afterall, he didn’t disclose that he was the prince, did he? Perhaps he felt betrayed that they met several times, only to learn that he was the royalty of the kingdom they warred with. Even if the majority of this kingdom grew fond of him, he knew there were still plenty of people who held grudges due to the losses they personally felt. Perhaps Ash was one of them.

 

Still, this lack of closure hurt. Always wondering who he was, what could have been.

 

He sighed. Maybe that was what was bothering him. Perhaps this ball was incredibly fun and to his interests, he was just being stubborn due to his inability to shake the memory of a stranger. Maybe that could extend to Yut Lung. Was he just being biased against him? Was he being unfair? He sighed.

 

\---

 

“Who are you?”

 

He could tell it was a woman in front of him just on the other side of the fence, but she was shrouded in the darkness of the night. She had long hair that was down and her shadowed silhouette seemed to hint that she wore a gown that was nice, but not a ball gown for someone going to the ball.  

 

“You don’t recognize me?” she asked him with a hint of playfulness in her voice. 

 

“Am I supposed to?” he asked back. He stood up straight, wiping the tears from his eyes. He was pretty sure he had never seen this woman before, and he didn’t recognize her voice. Still, it had a very nostalgic sound, but he couldn’t put his finger on how or why.

 

“You hurt me, Aslan,” she said with a sweet chuckle.

 

Ash stepped back defensively. “How...How do you know my real name?” 

 

“Do you really think I’d forget my own son’s name?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Ash felt his hairs raise. His mother was gone. She left him when he was very young, far too young to remember. She  _ abandoned  _ him.

 

The woman merely continued to chuckle as she walked closer to the fence, her face becoming more and more illuminated. It was then he could see her clearly. She had golden blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a face that was...his.

 

But she was far too young to be his mother. She looked not much older than he was, if any older at all. He’d have had a better time believing that she was his long lost sister. At any rate, say she was gifted with youthfulness far beyond her years...how would she know to find him  _ here _ ? Little Aslan, by all accounts, was long dead. His  _ father _ had no idea where he was, let alone a mother that never had anything to do with his life to begin with.

 

“I know you must have a lot of questions,” she told him, “And I would love more than anything to spend all night catching up with you, but we haven’t the time.”

 

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re insane,” Ash shook his head, “I don’t want to hear  _ anything _ from you.”

 

She gave him a sad yet understanding smile. Without saying anything, she flicked her wrist towards the gate--a normal gesture. What wasn’t normal, however, was that from her hand sparks flew and quickly engulfed part of the fence. The sparks created a hole, one big enough for Ash to walk through.

 

Ash’s eyes grew large. Was he dreaming? This sort of thing wasn’t possible, was it?

 

“Follow me, Aslan,” she gestured for him to follow her outside of the gate.

 

“I can’t,” was all he could bring himself to say.

 

“And why not?” she asked.

 

“I can’t leave.”

 

“Sure you can,” she said, sticking her hand through the hole in the gate, “Just walk through.”

 

“Not that,” he shook his head, “The others here...if I escape, they’d…It’d just...”

 

“I promise you. I will not allow anyone to realize you are missing,” she turned to continue on, “Now come on.”

 

Ash wasn’t sure what she meant, but if she was able to create a magic hole through the gate, perhaps she meant she would magically protect him in this way as well. Conversely, he wasn’t sure if he should trust her, if this wasn’t a trap. Ultimately though, he figured by now that he was probably dreaming, so it wasn’t as if it mattered.

 

“Where are we going?” he asked as he rushed to follow her.

 

“Not far,” she told him, “Just a slightly bigger garden away from things that I like to go to. A little out of the way and will make things easier.”

 

“You’ve been here this whole time?” he asked astonishedly. 

 

“Yes,” she nodded.

 

“Then why--Why did you stay away from me until now?”

 

“I haven’t been,” she told him, her tone more forlorn as she walked through the dark empty streets of the village.

 

“I never saw you here before. You’re lying.”

 

“No,” she stopped, “I have  _ always _ been with you, Aslan. You just couldn’t see me.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

The reached what Ash presumed was the garden. A pretty little place away from everything. Full of flowers and vegetables that were only barely lit in the dark of the night. There was a small bench in the center, and she sat down upon it and signaled for Ash to sit next to her.

 

“No,” he found his voice shaking, “I need answers. You claim to be my mother and to have always just... _ been here _ ? Where were you when I was all alone with my father? Where were you when I was sold off...You’re telling me that you saw me get... _ violated _ by those monsters and you just sat by and did nothing? Only  _ now _ you show up with magic sparks coming out of your hands and you expect me to just...to just…”

 

Her face fell. “Believe me, my child, I wanted more than anything to help you. It broke my heart every single day.”

 

“Then why didn’t you?” Ash didn’t even realize he was yelling, “Why did you leave me? If you stayed with me, if you didn’t run off and abandon our family none of this would have ever happened!” He could feel hot tears of both anger and sadness forming in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry. Not for her.

 

“Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life,” she held her head down, “There isn’t a moment that I don’t regret it.”

 

“Then why didn’t you come back?” his voice cracked.

 

“I died Ash.”

 

Ash felt his body grow cold. It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Why she was so young, why she could use magic, why she wasn’t there. Yet at the same time, it wasn’t possible. Dead people stayed dead.

 

“If this is a joke--”

 

“When I died, I died regretting that I would never come back to you,” she explained, her green eyes locked with his own, “So I decided that I would make it my eternal goal to watch over you. Call it your guardian angel, fairy godmother, or whatever else have you.”

 

“That still doesn’t explain why only  _ now _ you’re showing yourself,” he answered in a voice barely louder than a whisper, “There have been  _ so many times _ that I needed you.”

 

“This isn’t the first,” she smiled sadly, “When you were little, you’d call for me all the time. You’d have me play with you in the pumpkin patch. Have you forgotten?”

 

“Wait a minute,” Ash’s mouth fell open, “That was  _ you _ ?”

 

“Yes it was,” she giggled.

 

“That  _ traumatized _ me,” he furrowed his brows, “I  _ still  _ can’t look at pumpkins without thinking that they’re going to come to life and kill me.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized as her laughter hypocritically grew, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Though it was very cute.”

 

“Well, that aside,” Ash pouted, “That was a long time ago. Why didn’t you come when I  _ really _ needed you?”

 

“I would have,” her smile faded, “But you never called for me again.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I can’t come unless you call for me,” she explained, “I waited and waited, hoping you would...but you never did.”

 

“How was I supposed to know?” 

 

“It’s a terrible problem, I agree,” she sighed, “But rules are rules. Technically, asking for ‘anyone’ shouldn’t suffice, but...I decided that in a time as dire as this the rule could be bent.”

 

Ash didn’t know what to make of any of this. His mind, that usually went a thousand miles a minute seemed to go completely blank. Yet, despite his better judgement, he found himself believing it.

 

“Regardless,” she brought him back to reality, “I want to help you  _ now. _ ”

 

It was then the true weight of this hit Ash. The shock of the strange, supernatural situation distracted him, not truly making him realize what exactly she was getting at.

 

“You can use your magic to fix this,” he stated.

 

“I can use my magic to help you,” she nodded, “But what is it exactly that you  _ want _ ?”

 

“Eiji,” Ash found himself nearly trembling, “Please save Eiji.”

 

“You’re going to have to be more descriptive,” she told him.

 

“Stop Youssis, stop Dino, stop all of them!” he realized he was then full on shaking. “I don’t care what you do. Just don’t let them hurt him.”

 

“Unfortunately there are limitations for what I can do,” she frowned, “I can neither harm nor control the actions of others--”

 

“Then a safety spell on him. Anything.”

 

“--and am limited to you.”

 

“Then...let me save him!” he balled his hands into fists, “Let me burst in and end the ball like I planned. To convince him to get out of there, to leave this place.”

 

“Is that really what you want?”

 

“Of course!” he answered, baffled by her question, “I want him to be safe, to--”

 

“What about for  _ yourself _ , Aslan?” she interrupted him.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

She sighed. “I can help you storm in and crash the ball in a treacherous disguise, flames ablaze. You can scare Prince Eiji away from ever wanting to come back. But…” 

 

“But?” Ash asked.

 

She gave him a long and hard look. “Would that make  _ you _ happy?” 

 

“Of course, I’d know that--”

 

“Wasting away here, never seeing him again. You can’t just ask me to free you tomorrow, my magic is limited. I have enough to grant you one wish. Make sure you use it on what you  _ really _ want.”

 

“What are you implying?” Ash scoffed, “Of course I would rather use it on him than me. I hate my life here but--”

 

“Do you think that’s what  _ he _ wants?” she pressed. Ash was taken aback.

 

“No,” he admitted, “He wants to create peace.”

 

“What about for you?”

 

“He said he wanted to meet me again, but--”

 

“So why don’t you simply go to the ball and do that?”

 

“I...That’s not possible, I would just be noticed,” Ash shook his head, “It wouldn’t end well for anyone.”

 

“A spell to make no one recognize you would be quite easy,” she told him, “Of course, it’s an all or nothing thing--your prince wouldn’t recognize you either and telling anyone would break the spell. However, I believe love works in mysterious ways.”

 

“Love?” Ash raised an eyebrow skeptically.

 

“Aslan please,” she rolled her eyes with a laugh, “You want to give up everything for this boy.”

 

“I--” Ash found his face flushing. This wasn’t the sort of conversation he wanted to have with his estranged dead mother.

 

“I’ll spell out what I can do for you, since you are choosing to be incredibly stubborn,” she put her hands on her hips, “I can dress you up and send you to the ball. You can have a lovely night with your prince, subtlety keeping him away from any and all dangers. Have the happiness the two of you deserve.”

 

“Do you think that would work?”

 

“I wouldn’t offer it otherwise,” she winked.

 

“Well, if it doesn’t, I can always use the fact no one can recognize me, right?” He paused for a moment. “Alright, I’ll go with that.”

 

“Excellent,” she stood up, “Now stand here with your arms up.”

 

“What?”

 

“Listen to me boy,” she playfully ordered. Hesitantly, he did as he was told. Once he was still, she looked at him long and hard, carefully analyzing him. Once she was content, she gave a flick of her wrist, sparks flying out of her hand and towards Ash.

 

Instantly, his old, musty clothes he had been given at the brothel glowed brightly like a flame, though without any heat. Slowly, Ash noticed them morph. Before he even had the chance to react in alarm or fear, however, they changed into an elegant light blue and white princely outfit worthy for the ball. It was simple, yet incredibly nice--far nicer than anything he had ever worn before.

 

“Your hair is still messy,” his mother frowned. She poked it lightly with her finger, and he could feel his hair move as if a gust of wind hit it. He could feel his bangs leave his forehead and fall into place in an elegantly brushed back style. “Much better,” she nodded.

 

“This is incredible,” Ash marveled at his clothes, “I still don’t get how this is  _ possible _ .”

 

“Less worrying about that, more worrying on how you should get there,” she smirked, “I was thinking a pumpkin carriage.”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“I have an affinity to them,” she shrugged, “It wasn’t to frighten you as a child, they are merely easier for me to work with.”

 

“They’re not even in season!” he frowned.

 

“That won’t stop me,” she grinned, “These seedlings here should work just fine.”

 

Before Ash could protest again, she waved her magic towards a little green plant in the garden. From it, a pumpkin grew. And grew. It grew so large that eventually the two of them had to take a few steps back. Once it was the  _ size _ of a carriage, it glowed once more, the newly created vines turning into wheels, doors forming through it.”

 

“I’m not getting in that!” Ash told her.

 

“Not even for Eiji?”

 

“This is ridiculous,” he furrowed his brows, “Who is even going to drive it?”

 

“That’s right!” she clapped her hands. She examined the garden for a few moments before she noticed some mice run by. Before they could leave her sight, she waved her hand and turned them into horses and coachman.”

 

“I can’t believe this,” Ash frowned. Not out of awe and amazement, but of how petty of a jokester his mother apparently was.

 

“Now, it’s time for you to go!” she told him, ignoring his complaints entirely, “Unfortunately, my spells can only work the day they are cast. You only have until midnight to convince your prince to remain safe before the spell will be broken.”

 

“Alright,” Ash agreed. He was sickened by the terrible pumpkin carriage, but knowing there was limited time, he tried is best to ignore it as he sat inside.

 

“Good luck, my son,” she told him with a bright smile.

 

“Thank you,” Ash replied, emotion suddenly welling up inside him. 

 

“Now, it’s time for you to--”

 

“Wait!” Ash cut her off, “Before I go, can I ask you something?”

 

“Anything,” she agreed.

 

“My brother Griff. He’s…” he trailed off, unable to ask the full question.

 

“Yes. He passed on many years ago.”

 

“I see,” Ash hung his head low, “Thank you for telling me. I figured he was gone for quite a long time now.”

 

“No, Aslan,” she insisted as she reached through the doorway to grab her son’s hand, “He’s not  _ gone _ .”

 

“But you just--”

 

“No one ever  _ really  _ is.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debated for a while who to make the fairy godmother figure. Blanca, because of the reference in the series? Max, his godfather-y figure? I even considered getting rid of the magical elements entirely and going with realism.
> 
> In the end, I thought back to the original Grimm's version where Cinderella cried to her mother's tree and she left a gown. I decided I liked that, but still considered whether Griff or his actual mother was a better option.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> using the right variations of names/how to refer to people is by far the hardest part of writing this story.

“Ei-chan!” a familiar voice called out. 

 

“Ibe-san!” Eiji greeted his friend as he approached him, “I feel like I’ve barely seen you all evening.”

 

Eiji had wanted some space and retreated to a rather empty corner space just outside of the main area of the ballroom. He wanted some room to himself and some air to breathe in order to think clearly without being bothered or questioned by anyone. Of course, he would never complain about Ibe approaching him, however.

 

“Well, you are the guest of honor,” Ibe hit him lightly on the shoulder, “You are supposed to be everywhere. Don’t waste all your time talking to me.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eiji teased, hitting him back.

 

“I did want to ask, however,” Ibe’s voice grew more serious, “That Ash boy...is he…?”

 

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Eiji frowned.

 

“Well, the night is still young,” the older man tried to assure him with a sympathetic smile.

 

“I guess so,” he shrugged unenthusiastically. He knew Ibe was only saying that to cheer him up, but he wished he wouldn’t try to falsely get his hopes up like that. For the most part, everyone had arrived by now, and he doubted there would be another wave of arrivals.

 

“Well, I saw you with Yut Lung,” he offered, “You two seem to be getting along alright.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“ _ Maybe _ ?” Ibe repeated incredulously.

 

“He’s alright I guess,” Eiji twiddled his thumbs, “It’s just...I’m not sure how to put it, but there is something off about him.”

 

“Well,” Ibe put his hand on Eiji’s shoulder, “You should remember that there are dozens if not hundreds of handsome, eligible young men who would love to have a chance with you. The world is far bigger than just the two of them.”

 

“Maybe you’re right,” Eiji sighed.

 

“I know I am,” he winked. With that, he went off, leaving Eiji alone again.

 

Eiji sighed, this time much heavier than before. He had concerned himself over being unfair to Yut Lung, but he realized that Ibe’s words were true. It was of his own will that  _ any _ man of this kingdom could come with the ulterior motive of finding a potential suitor. He had been so blinded by his desperation to find Ash again that he had practically forgotten. Or perhaps he didn’t, perhaps he had turned it into a sort of fraud to trick Ash into coming.

 

It was  _ wrong  _ of him to be like this, he thought to himself. Unfair to Ash, who he had projected his will on. Unfair to Yut Lung, who he strung along. Unfair to everyone else. Maybe his soulmate  _ was _ there, but he had been so wrapped up in his fixation with two people that he had missed him. 

 

He should just forget about Ash once and for all, he decided. He wished he could do the same for Yut Lung, but he more or less  _ had _ to be his backup. A thought that disgusted himself--he shouldn’t view a potential husband like that. Perhaps Yut Lung sensed this, and that's why he came across the way he did. Maybe Yut Lung wasn’t the fake one, perhaps it was Eiji himself that was the true villain in this.

 

So with that, he went back into the crowds of the ballroom. Instantly, people greeted him, some asking where he had run off to. Of course, some very unsubtle men made advances towards him and Eiji tried to remain open minded towards them, but...they didn’t do anything for him. He looked upon the crowd not to look for Ash, but anyone who stood out to him.

 

No one.

 

“There you are,” a voice called out. It had a tone that tried to emulate sweetness, but Eiji could sense venom behind it.

 

“Oh, hello Yut Lung,” Eiji nodded cordially towards him. Yut Lung had a smile that Eiji could instantly tell was strained and his dark eyes looked incredibly irritated. In his hands were two chalices filled with what he could only imagine was a red wine of some sorts.

 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he informed him, “I have been carrying these around, you know.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Eiji gave a fake apology, “I didn’t mean to run off.”

 

“I would hope not,” his eyes narrowed.

 

“I was looking for you too, actually,” he lied. It was clear Yut Lung didn’t believe it, but he wasn’t going to press further.

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. My wrists are getting sore,” he sighed, reaching out the more intricately decorated chalice towards Eiji.

 

“I am sorry,” Eiji apologized far more genuinely, “And thank you for getting this for me.”

 

“Well, when we’re married I will always have our servants get drinks for us,” Yut Lung gave him an unreadable smirk, “That way we won’t have this problem.”

 

“I-I guess so,” Eiji blushed as he took his chalice. 

 

Yut Lung’s expression went blank. “So is that a yes then?”

 

“A--What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“You’ll agree to marry me?”

 

“Well, I--”

 

“Who is  _ he _ ?” a voice near him exclaimed quite loudly. Instinctively, Eiji turned his head from Yut Lung to see who spoke, only to notice that everyone around them had gone still, looking towards the grand staircase of the ballroom’s entrance.

 

Many people entered, many being of high status, but he hadn’t seen anyone stop in their tracks to stare at someone like they did now. Especially given that all the main guests of honor such as the royal family of this kingdom and Eiji himself had long since been here. It puzzled him, and he couldn’t help but turn to try and see who exactly they were gawking at.

 

It only took him a moment of looking to notice him. A young man standing at the top of the staircase. Even from the top of the stairs, Eiji could still see him incredibly clearly. He was blond with what he could only imagine was normally shaggy hair, though neatly styled back out of his forehead. He wore a very understated yet elegant outfit, one that looked far more comfortable and mobile than that which Eiji himself wore.

 

He was also incredibly, unbelievably beautiful. The most beautiful living person Eiji had ever seen in his life.

 

Eiji couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. He set aside his chalice and as if entranced by him, found himself walking towards him. Likewise, he too walked down the stairs, directly towards Eiji. It was as if they were magnets, pulling towards each other.

 

“Wait!” Yut Lung grabbed his arm, “You’re not going to drink what I went out of my way to get for you?”

 

Eiji stopped in his tracks, feeling as though he had been broken from a trance.

 

He was in the middle of a conversation, wasn’t he? He had just moments ago more or less agreed to marry Yut Lung, hadn’t he? It was rude of him to pay attention to some stranger merely for his stunning looks.

 

“You’re right,” Eiji hung his head after a few moments of contemplation, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what has come over me, tonight.”

 

“It’s alright,” Yut Lung grinned, picking up the chalice. He offered it out to Eiji.

 

“No it’s not,” Eiji shook his head as he took it from him, “I’ve been incredibly rude to you and there’s no excuse.”

 

“Just drink it!” Yut Lung’s smiling facade faded as his expression grew visibly impatient.

 

“Right, sorry,” Eiji nodded. Slowly, he brought the cup to near mouth. The liquid in it was a red wine with a sort of sickly sweet smell, but he wasn’t going to complain after all of this. He angled the cup to take a sip.

 

It was then Eiji felt something grab his wrist that held the cup. It was aggressively pulled down, away from his mouth. He kept his grip on the cup, but he ended up spilling all of the contents of it onto the floor. Eiji could hear gasps around him, daring to wonder who would grab a  _ prince _ like that.

 

“Sorry, my prince,” a voice apologized, “I just saw a fly go into your drink.”

 

Eiji looked up. It was the young man from before.

 

Up close, his good looks were even more apparent. His features were sharp, but in an attractive way. His skin was clear, without a single blemish or flaw. His eyes that peered into his own were a brilliant shade of green, bordered by long blond eyelashes. Something about this face felt so utterly familiar. In his heart, it felt the relief of reuniting with someone, as if a hole in his heart was being fixed.

 

But he had never seen this face before.

 

Perhaps it was the similarity in features to Ash. Afterall, he was  _ also _ a young, handsome blond haired, green eyed man wasn’t he? If he had to list off the features of both of them, he wouldn’t be able to say what was different between the. Yet...it wasn’t Ash, was it? He would recognize him, wouldn’t he? This man was clearly a stranger.

 

“Fly or no fly, how  _ dare _ you accost the prince like this?” Yut Lung interrupted Eiji’s train of thought to yell at the stranger, “Who do you think you are?”

 

“No, it’s alright,” Eiji assured Yut Lung, his voice more dazed than he intended, “He meant no harm.” He turned to the stranger. “You didn’t, right?”

 

“Of course not,” he replied with a charming smile in a captivating voice that instantly made Eiji feel strange. “Actually, quite the opposite. I merely wish him the best.”

 

“Well, you did what you did,” Yut Lung snarled, “Now leave us.”

 

“I actually wished to speak to Prince Eiji, if that’s alright.”

 

“Like I said, who do you think you--”

 

“Of course,” Eiji cut Yut Lung off, “Go right ahead.”

 

The stranger eyed Yut Lung for a moment with an expression that Eiji couldn’t read. After a moment he replied with a single word: “Alone.”

 

As he said it, the music played in the corner of the ballroom picked back up and couples all around went hand and hand on the dance floor. Yut Lung gave Eiji a hard stare, expecting him to tell this stranger off and dance with him. Yet Eiji was too entranced by this stranger, the stranger he felt he knew. 

 

With this weird feeling, he  _ had _ to hear him out, right?

 

“Why don’t we dance?” Eiji asked, offering out a hand. The blond’s green eyes grew large in surprise for a moment, but his expression turned into a small smile as he reached to return the gesture with his own gloved hand.

 

Yut Lung scoffed. “Eiji, my dear, I don’t approve of--”

 

“You don’t need to approve,” Eiji replied bluntly. The stranger let out the tiniest laugh from under his breath.

 

It was as if the two floated as the two walked hand and hand to the dance floor. Seeing the prince and the handsome stranger, people quickly went out of the way to let them by.. The musicians noticed and quickly let their music fade out. Once the two were in the dead center and ready to dance, they started back up. 

 

Despite the fact that the stranger said he wanted to talk to him, the first song they didn’t utter a single word to each other. Eiji was shorter by a considerable margin, so the other led, staring heavily into each others eyes. Eiji knew he had a puzzled expression towards the other that he felt would make most uncomfortable, but the green eyes that looked back on him did not seem concerned by that. They looked at him with an intensity--a protective intensity that Eiji couldn’t understand, yet not at all threatening. 

 

This was all so strange. Why was he looking at him like this? Moreover, why did dancing with him feel so... _ natural _ ? Eiji’s mouth opened as he tried to find words to say, but then closed it.

 

“Is something bothering you?” the other asked, concern in his voice.

 

“Hm? No, it’s alright,” Eiji shook his head lightly, “I just…”

 

“You just?” he asked.

 

“I just have this weird feeling, I guess. Like I know you somehow.”

 

The green eyes grew large with surprise. “What makes you think that?” he asked.

 

“I’m not sure,” Eiji sighed, “You just seem so...familiar somehow.  _ Do _ we know each other.”

 

The other didn’t answer right away. He continued leading their dance for a few moments as Eiji could see in his eyes that he was searching for the right answer.

 

“Well, I know who  _ you _ are,” he finally replied, “But, no...You don’t know who I am.”

 

“Then who  _ are _ you?” Eiji implored.

 

“We can’t talk about that here,” he shook his head, “There’s no telling who’s listening.”

 

“Excuse me?” Eiji raised an eyebrow incredulously. He didn’t answer, merely continuing their dance. For some reason, Eiji didn’t feel imminent need to push him any further. He simply continued to dance with the handsome stranger, not caring that all the other guests were staring at them. 

 

Eiji wasn’t sure how long they had been dancing until the music gradually came to a stop. He knew the people in the ballroom were circled around them, but he didn’t care to look at them. All he could look at were the green eyes that looked back at him. The green eyes that seemed so familiar, yet so mysterious.

 

“Well,” Eiji broke eye contact took look down to their shoes.

 

“I’m sorry,” his dance partner instantly let go, “I didn’t mean to hoard you away.”

 

“No!” Eiji grabbed his hand, “I...I enjoyed dancing with you.”

 

The look on the stranger’s face grew surprised for a few moments before it faded away into a smile. “In that case, would you mind if we went somewhere to speak for a little while?”

 

“Of course,” Eiji nodded fervently, “That’s what you wanted, afterall.”

 

“Alright,” he led them, Eiji unaware until that moment that he was still holding onto his hand.

 

This all felt so familiar.

 

The music quickly started back up and couples rushed back to continue dancing, allowing them to slip away far more easily. Eiji figured he would obviously know the palace a lot better, so he ended up guiding them down a side corridor and outside onto a small patio garden he had came across by accident once.

 

The stranger’s eyes widened taking in the little garden. It was quite lovely, lit by candles around it, showing off a lovely flower garden. In the center was a fountain that Eiji went to sit on the edge of.

 

“Is this private enough?” Eiji asked.

 

“Yes,” he nodded, though his mind still seemed elsewhere.

 

“Then sit,” Eiji signaled to the spot next to him. With a nod, he did.

 

“I’m sorry for taking you away from your ball. We don’t have to be too long.”

 

“No, don’t apologize,” Eiji assured him, “I don’t mind being near you. Like I said before, there’s something about you...Something I can’t describe.”

 

“It’s probably nothing,” he replied bluntly.

 

“You remind me of someone,” Eiji brought a finger to his mouth in compilation, “I thought it was impossible but--Do you...Do you know someone who goes by the name of Ash?” The green eyes that looked at him grew incredibly large with shock and possibly fear. “Well do you?” Eiji asked again.

 

“I know him, yes.”

 

“Then can you--”

 

“I know you met him,” he cut him off, “But you shouldn’t concern yourself with him anymore. He’s…”

 

“He’s?”

 

“He’s not good news,” he shook his head, “Believe me.”

 

“He seemed so nice,” Eiji hung his head in disappointment, “I was hoping he’d come tonight.”

 

“Well, he’s not.”

 

“Well, who are you to say that?” Eiji raised an eyebrow, “I know him more than you--I don’t even have a name for you.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” the bluntness returned to his voice, “This isn’t about me. This is about you.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Prince Eiji, the reason I came here tonight is to tell you that you’re in serious danger.”

 

Eiji’s mouth grew slightly agape as he tried to make sense of what he just heard. “Danger?” he finally echoed, “What sort of danger?”

 

“Your  _ life _ is in danger,” he responded, urgency in his voice, “I don’t mean to scare you, but this whole time…”

 

“What are you saying?” Eiji asked in disbelief. 

 

“This whole time, before you even came to this kingdom. It’s all been a trap. Not by the King and Queen, but by people who would do  _ anything _ to prevent the peace between your two kingdoms from happening.”

 

“What? What people?” 

 

“Racketters, underworld suppliers. People who  _ need _ the war to continue and who have artificially kept it going far longer than it ever had to. They know that you taking over your kingdom...you won’t budge to them.”

 

“ _ Who _ ?” Eiji found himself trembling, “If that’s the case, name names. Otherwise I have no reason to believe you.”

 

“Too many people,” he shook his head, “People who run the weapons, people who work for this kingdom, as well as your own court. I know it’s a lot, but for the sake of your own life I’m begging you to believe me.”

 

“I--” Eiji found himself unable to think. Of all the odd feelings and mystery surrounding this person,  _ this _ was definitely something he never expected. “And how do you know this?”

 

“Because,” he balled his hands into fists, “I was a part of that world. I knew about everything. But I couldn’t...I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

 

“Is this a joke?” Eiji’s heart was racing, “If it is, this is incredibly cruel. You don’t even know me. Where is Ash?”

 

He hesitated, clear sadness shown in his expression. “Ash is one who came up with the idea,” he finally told him.

 

Tears formed in Eiji’s eyes almost instantly. He didn’t want to believe this. Ash was a kind stranger who saved his life. They spend time together. He wanted to find Ash again, to marry him.

 

And yet.

 

The look on this stranger’s face didn’t seem to hint that he was lying. It was earnest, like he was truly worried for him. Like he wanted to protect him.

 

His words were also not out of line with Eiji’s own suspicions for years. Hadn’t he been paranoid that there were moles in his court? Hadn’t it been feared by many that this whole thing was a trap to execute him? Eiji went in knowing his life was in danger, didn’t he?

 

This stranger, so familiar so... _ warm _ . His brain wanted to believe that he was lying, but his heart told him he wasn’t.

 

“Tell me one thing. Did Ash know when I met him?”

 

“No,” he shook his head earnestly, “Of course not. He would have never put this plan into action had he known.”

 

“Does he know now?”

 

“You should just forget about him. Even if you don’t, you won’t see him again.”

 

Eiji opened his mouth and closed it. “What about you? How do you know this?”

 

“I know this sounds insane,” he gave a small smile, “But even if you don’t know me, I know you. N-Not as a stalker, but I’m someone who cares about you. I want to protect you, Eiji.”

 

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to believe you,” Eiji laughed incredulously through his tears.

 

“Please just do. For your own safety.”

 

“What should I do?”

 

The odd stranger opened his mouth to reply, but the moment he did the clock tower rang. As it did, his expression grew into abject terror.

 

“I’m sorry, there’s no time,” he stood up, fear in his voice, “I should have gotten to the point sooner, I got carried away--”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I have to go,” he shook his head, walking backwards to the door. The clock chimed again.

 

“Wait!” Eiji grabbed his hand to stop him, “You can’t just leave now.”

 

“I have no choice,” he practically yelled, “But...For tonight, please just don’t  _ drink _ anything.”

 

“Wait--” Eiji called out again. Yet as he did, the other pulled away his glove slipping off and remaining in his hand. Before he could register what happened, the other man had rushed through the doors, leaving Eiji behind in the dimly lit garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real close to the ending now!
> 
> Don't ask why it's a glove. I figured he wouldn't have a glass slipper, and just having a normal shoe felt...weird for some reason to me.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is essentially the last chapter, with only an epilogue after this. Kind of a long chapter that (like too many in this story) weren't as edited as much as it should have been.

“That was Ash, right?” Ibe asked.

 

“I--” Eiji found himself struggling to answer. The ball had ended, the guests returning home for the night. It was considered a great success as a whole. That was, until Eiji had been spotted running in asking where the stranger he danced the night away went.

 

“He fit every description you described,” he continued, “Blond, green eyed, about your age. You weren’t kidding that he was incredibly handsome.”

 

“You’re right,” Eiji frowned, “He does fit the description. But no, that wasn’t Ash.”

 

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Then why did you--”

 

“I don’t know who he was, but he wasn’t Ash,” Eiji balled his hands into fists, crumpling the glove that was still in his hand, “But I need you to find out who he really is.”

 

“So Ash didn’t come?” 

 

“No, he didn’t,” Eiji looked down. His heart was still sore from the words the blond stranger told him. He didn’t want to believe that Ash wanted to hurt him. And yet--

 

“You must have a type then, don’t you?” Ibe teased him, nudging his shoulder, “You give up on one blond, green eyed boy and suddenly you fall for another.”

 

Eiji blushed. Alright, he was attracted to that stranger. He was incredibly handsome and charming, and they seemed to have a connection that he couldn’t describe. One he  _ thought _ he had with Ash.

 

Yet on the other hand, it was more than just that. This stranger gave him an extremely bold yet grave warning. People wanted him dead and that this was all a trap. To not drink anything. When he knocked his cup out of his hand upon first meeting, was it to save him? Was  _ Yut Lung _ trying to poison him? More than anything, he needed more answers.

 

Though of course he couldn’t speak about this to anyone. He trusted Ibe as a person, but he feared if he told him he would repeat it around. The stranger warned him that both kingdoms were compromised, so he had no clue who he could trust.

 

“I guess so,” Eiji lied, “But regardless of what you think, I’ve decided that...That he’s who I want to marry.”

 

“That’s not going to be as easy as you think,” Ibe sighed, “ _ No one _ knew who he was. It caused quite a lot of talk as the two of you danced.” 

 

He held up the satin glove he pulled from the stranger’s hand.

 

“Use this,” he instructed, “And find him for me.”

 

Before Eiji even had the chance to wake up the following morning, it was already announced that there was a kingdom wide search for the mysterious young man who came and went at the ball the night before.

 

Eiji thought his request would be carried out in a covert fashion. He figured someone, probably Ibe, would go around with the glove asking who it belonged to. He didn’t expect the entire castle to be running amok, running to him and asking him questions as soon as he left his chambers.

 

“Can you tell us about him?” a man in a distinguished outfit asked somewhat forcefully.

 

“I--”

 

“So do you reject the hand of Yut Lung Lee?”

 

“Well, it’s--”

 

“With all due respect, the glove could fit many hands, could it not?”

 

“Well, yes,” Eiji managed to interject, “But if it fits the wrong person and they then show up here...I have  _ eyes _ .”

 

“Well, what about Yut Lung Lee?” the second man pressed again.

 

“I--” Eiji stopped and paused. He didn’t trust Yut Lung, especially after what the stranger told him. He could possibly be attempting to kill him after all. Yet at the same time, he had agreed to, didn’t he? He didn’t know for  _ sure _ if Yut Lung wanted to, he could genuinely be seeking out the power and fortune of his throne. He also didn’t know for sure if the stranger was even being truthful in the first place.

 

But what could the stranger have been hoping to gain by making it all up?

 

Still, obligations were obligations. He did say he’d marry Yut Lung if he didn’t find anyone else at the ball. So with a deep breath Eiji gave his answer.

 

“If the stranger can’t be found...I’ll keep my word and marry Yut Lung.”

 

\---

 

“Who was he?” Dino demanded, throwing his tea cup across the dining room, shattering on the wall mere inches from Youssis’s face.

 

“I don’t know,” he replied, shutting his eyes to maintain his calm, “I’d never seen him before.”

 

“But he knew about our plan?”

 

“I don’t know!” Yut Lung opened his eyes and furrowed his brows, circling his finger around the rim of his teacup, “I can’t say for sure, but I only suspect it. The second Prince Eiji was about to drink the poisoned wine he shoved it out of his hand and talked about wanting to speak with him alone. After that, I have no idea what happened.”

 

“Why didn’t you listen to them?” Dino demanded, “Why didn’t you keep up on their conversation?!”

 

“They were just  _ dancing _ ,” Yut Lung stopped his finger and instead pressed down on the rim too forcefully, nearly causing it to knock over. “By the time they had stopped, I had no idea where they went. They disappeared without a trace.”

 

“Describe him.”

 

Yut Lung relaxed his hand and instead took a sip of his tea.

 

“Blond, green eyed, about my age or a little older,” he replied between sips of his chamomile tea, “He was very handsome, and had the dress and dignity of a prince.”

 

“Are you  _ sure _ it wasn’t Ash?” Dino narrowed his eyes.

 

“Of course I’m sure,” Yut Lung placed his teacup down on the saucer, “I’ve lived with him for years. I could recognize him anywhere.”

 

\---

 

“Tea, my prince?” a servant lady asked Eiji, teapot in hand, as he ate breakfast.

 

“Just water, please,” Eiji smiled politely.

 

She seemed somewhat surprised but replied with a polite, “As you wish, sir.”

 

He remembered the stranger’s warning to not drink anything, presumably because of poison. He had to drink  _ something _ though, and figured that water would be alright. If it smelled funny, he wouldn’t drink it. If it tasted funny, he’d immediately spit it out.

 

“So you found the one, but he ran off?” the King asked.

 

“Um,” Eiji shot up, taken aback by the bluntness of the question, “Well...possibly.”

 

“I’d certainly hope so, given all that we’re doing to try and find him,” a duke gave a snide reply.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be so much trouble,” he apologized.

 

“No, no, it’s alright,” the Queen cut in, giving a side eyed glare to the duke. “We are happy you found someone in our kingdom to your liking. Plus,” she leaned in towards Eiji with a coy smirk, “I happened to get a good look at him and can’t say I blame you. He was incredibly handsome.”

 

“Oh,” Eiji blushed, “I suppose he is.”

 

After breakfast, the King, Queen, and other royal family went on their merry way business as usual, while Eiji could only pace the halls of the castle in anticipation. Ibe hadn’t come back, nor had he even heard any word from him. He knew there were many, many men to get through and it wasn’t going to be an easy task to find him.

 

They were never able to find Ash. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Yet at the same time, something deep inside of him told him that this  _ couldn’t _ have a dead end.

 

He realized he had subconsciously wandered to the door leading out to the small garden they had sat the night before. He almost turned around, not wanting to dwell on this even more than he was already, yet he found his hand opening the door, leading him outside.

 

It was raining. Not too hard, but enough that he would get damp if he sat out for too long. Still, he decided to sit there.

 

Was he being a crazy, hopeless romantic wanting to find that stranger? Especially so soon after his failed... _ whatever he had _ with Ash? Or perhaps was he being realistic, simply wanting more answers from someone he hoped would provide them? Perhaps this had nothing to do with romance at all.

 

He sighed. He knew that was a lie. He knew he was attracted to the blond stranger.

 

The rain poured harder.

 

\---

 

Ibe returned back late after it had grown dark. It was summer, so it was quite late, and Eiji was quite tired after getting minimal sleep the previous night. Still, he waited.

 

“Eiji!” Ibe called as he entered the castle, seeing him in a seat near the grand entrance, “Why are you up so late..and dripping wet?”

 

“I was waiting for you,” he replied, trying not to yawn.

 

“You’re that enthralled with this boy, aren't you?” Ibe sighed sympathetically, “I don’t think you were  _ this _ impatient for information on Ash.”

 

“I take it you didn’t find him.”

 

“No,” Ibe hung his head, “But we were barely able to make a dent in the capital alone.”

 

“Let me go with you tomorrow.”

 

And so, Eiji went with Ibe and the rest of the entourage the following day.

 

It was a very hot day compared to the rains of the day before. The servants and guards with him constantly asking if he wished to take a break or go back to the castle. Eiji frowned and insisted that he could handle it if they could. He wanted to see this through.

 

So they went, door to door throughout the capital and surrounding villages. They would knock on the door and ask if there was any young man who attended the ball. If so, they would try on the glove to see if it was a match. In many cases, men lined up beforehand, wanting a chance to marry a prince and become a future king. Of course, all of them were fakes.

 

Eiji figured the glove would fit many men and that he would have to use his own memory and intuition to know if it was the same person. Yet strangely enough, the glove didn’t fit  _ any _ of them. It was either too small, too large, oddly shaped, a finger too long, or  _ something _ . He figured the glove must have been custom to fit his hand, yet still there were surely plenty of  _ other _ men with similar sizes in hands. He certainly didn’t remember the stranger having an odd hand size or shape or anything.

 

Eiji hadn’t realized how long they had been at it until he noticed the sky turning orange, the day ending. So many men, so many homes, yet still nothing.

 

“We should go back,” Ibe announced.

 

“How much of this place haven’t we covered?” Eiji asked.

 

“We’ve gone over most of it,” he told him, “But I’ll come back tomorrow and finish it up.”

 

“I’ll come again, too,” Eiji nodded.

 

“You can’t,” a guard told him, “You have a meeting scheduled with Monsieur Golzine and Yut Lung Lee.”

 

“You knew this, Ei-chan,” Ibe sighed.

 

“Who was Golzine again?” Eiji blinked.

 

The guard was taken aback by this question. “He’s an incredibly important figure who--”

 

“The person whose estate Yut Lung lives at,” Ibe cut him off.

 

“I see,” Eiji bit his lip, “I remember.”

 

He did remember, but he didn’t really care to. He was a bald, older man whose presence unsettled Eiji far more than Yut Lung did. Even his grand estate, which was by all means impressive even to a prince like himself, felt eerie, almost like a prison. 

 

He would much rather go on this search.

 

“You’re going to have to postpone,” Eiji told them, “I need to be a part of this.”

 

“You can’t just  _ postpone _ Monsieur Gol--”

 

“I’m a prince, aren’t I?” Eiji raised his eyebrow, “If they want to see me so badly, they can just come along.”

 

\---

 

At first Dino was offended by the notion of being pushed aside and forced to come along on his silly quest. Quickly, however, he saw it as an opportunity.

 

Yut Lung was dressed gorgeously as usual, though perhaps not in the most fitting attire to go around the capital. He greeted Eiji politely as he should, yet as usual it came across as fake. Yet to Eiji, this time it felt fake in a different way. This time, it seemed to be out of  _ sadness. _

 

Eiji didn’t really stop and think of how cruel this was ahead of time. Afterall, he was bringing his second choice along to find his first choice.

 

“It’s not just about marriage, you know,” Eiji assured him, shame in his voice, “They might keep  _ saying _ it’s so I can marry him, but really I’m just...curious.”

 

“Whatever you say,” he answered robotically.

 

“I mean it!” he insisted. To be fair, he  _ was _ telling the truth. Yut Lung was in fact the only person he had told the real truth to. He just...couldn’t get into details  _ why  _ he was curious.

 

Yut Lung’s melancholy turned to disgust towards a lot of the men he came across. He knew that he was a high class man, and it was clear instantly like so many of them he stuck his nose towards those who were beneath him. Eiji felt as though any poor, dirty man deserved every bit as much of a chance as the aristocracy, but Yut Lung refused to even step foot inside many of the residencies. An attitude that gradually made Eiji feel less and less sympathetic towards him.

 

“I’m sure that glove is  _ filthy _ now,” he told him as they left a poor farmhouse, “Imagine all the disgusting, sweaty hands that put on. You couldn’t  _ pay _ me to try it on.”

 

“Good thing you don’t have to,” Eiji raised an eyebrow. Yut Lung frowned.

 

Eiji could tell that unlike the previous day, this day  _ was _ going to feel incredibly long.

 

Still, they went. Door after door, building after building. Despite Yut Lung’s protests, even through Monsieur Golzine’s eerie hard stares, they went on and on to no avail. As they would leave each area, Golzine would give a slight smirk that made Eiji’s blood run cold.

 

He was so distracted by the two that in the late afternoon, when Ibe announced that they had officially gone through the entire capital, as well as the neighboring estates and villages he was taken completely off guard.

 

They were back in the center of the capital, all areas that Eiji had recognized by now. Yet still, he couldn’t believe it.

 

“Are you sure?” he asked.

 

“You don’t trust your own advisor?” Monsieur Golzine questioned.

 

“We’re sure,” Ibe ignored the older man.

 

“Perhaps he was from a far away village?” Eiji offered, “He could have came from out of town.”

 

“This kingdom is incredibly large,” Golzine cut in again, “It would be near impossible, not to mention an incredible waste of time, to try to search everywhere.”

 

Eiji’s heart sank. This couldn’t be it.

 

“Perhaps you should consider that maybe he doesn’t  _ want _ to be found,” Yut Lung told him.

 

“But--”

 

“Perhaps he’s married or something,” Yut Lung shrugged, “He could have just wanted a fun night away with no consequences. He did run off without so much as giving you a name, afterall.”

 

“What about that place?!” Eiji pointed to a run down building in the center of the square that, by the laundry hanging at the window, appeared to have residents.

 

“Did you not listen to me?” Yut Lung frowned.

 

“Did you go there, Ibe-san?” Eiji asked, ignoring him further.

 

“No, I don’t think we have,” Ibe tilted his head, analyzing the building closely, “It wasn’t on our list.”

 

“It’s a brothel,” Monsieur Golzine laughed, “Of course it wouldn’t be.”

 

“But do people  _ live  _ there?” Eiji asked.

 

“Sure, but a prince like yourself wouldn’t--”

 

“Then I think it’s only fair to visit there too.”

 

“Your highness,” Monsieur Golzine continued, “With all due respect, you  _ do _ know what a brothel is, do you not? The boys there are  _ prosti _ \--”

 

“I know what a brothel is,” Eiji cut him off, “And I think I can decide for myself if I want to go there or not.” Golzine frowned.

 

“Very typical of Ei-chan,” Ibe laughed, “Always willing to give everyone a chance.” He signaled to his guards. “Alright, then. Let’s see if our mystery man is there.” He winked at Eiji. Eiji smiled.

 

He really didn’t expect him to be there, and it was more of a symbolic gesture to visit. The stranger was dressed to the nines, clearly from a rich background unlike the poor conditions of this filthy brothel. Still, he wasn’t going to stick his nose at them.

 

Ibe knocked on the shabby door, and very quickly an older, heavier man answered. He had a look of shock when he saw Eiji and hesitated before letting them in, but once he noticed Golzine he quickly opened the door widely and welcomed them in.

 

Once Eiji entered, however, he instantly felt sick. Not by the notion of prostitution itself, but rather the boys lined up to greet him.

 

Not “boys” colloquially, referring to young adults or upper aged teenagers like Eiji or Yut Lung.  _ Children _ , many probably under the age of ten. Far too young to even be  _ thinking _ about prostitution, let alone being subjected to it. Far too young to  _ willingly _ live this life.

 

“Prince Eiji!” a young boy cheered, instantly running towards him. The brothel guard shoved him harshly to the ground before he could.

 

“Sorry about that, he should know better,” he apologized.

 

Eiji ignored the guard and instantly ran to the child, helping him up. The boy, who had tears in his eyes from the fall, instantly had glowing eyes upon realizing who it was that was helping him.

 

“Are there any people here...Eiji’s age,” Ibe asked, breaking the silence. It was clear from his restrained voice that he was just as disgusted by this display as Eiji was.

 

The guard opened his mouth to reply. “N--”

 

“Yeah, Ash!” the kid Eiji helped glowed, “He’s your age and he’s great!”

 

The guard’s face grew angry. The other boys’ faces grew pale, as if the young child had said a forbidden word.

 

Though perhaps no one grew quite as pale as Eiji.

 

“Excuse me?” Eiji repeated, “Did you just say... _ Ash _ ?”

 

“Yeah, Ash! He’s--”

 

“Kid’s crazy,” the guard grabbed the child’s arm harshly, “No one with that name here.”

 

“Is that true?” Eiji asked the other boys. They all looked at each other nervously, afraid to speak. “Don’t worry, tell me the truth. You have nothing to be afraid of. I promise.”

 

Eiji tried to remain calm to not frighten the boys as his own heart was pounding so hard that he felt it was going to escape from his chest.

 

“Y...Yeah,” one finally stumbled on his words, “Ash lives here.”

 

“He’s in the basement,” another replied, “Got in trouble.”

 

“What did he get in trouble for?” Golzine broke his own silence, reminding Eiji that he was there after he had nearly forgotten.

 

“He got caught trying to sneak out the night of the ball,” the boy answered.

 

“ _ Excuse me? _ ” Golzine’s face turned red faster than Eiji knew was possible for a human.

 

“Sorry, Monsieur,” the guard threw up his hands shaking, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be concerned--”

 

“This is ridiculous,” Golzine tried to contain his anger, yet was as clear as day, “I’m sorry your highness you have to experience this horrific display, but let us return--”

 

“Let me see him.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I want to see Ash,” Eiji shook his head, “No...I  _ need _ to see him.”

 

“I don’t think you want to say no to the prince,” Ibe shrugged.

 

The guard looked back and forth between Golzine and Eiji nervously. “I’ll go get him,” he finally replied, quickly running away from the main room towards the cellar stairs.

 

Eiji’s heart beat even faster and harder than he could have thought possible. 

 

Was this his Ash? The Ash that he had met several times? The Ash the stranger said plotted to kill him? Was he really--?

 

It took only a minute or two before he returned. The guard first, his brows furrowed with irritation from this whole encounter. Behind him, came a taller, younger man.

 

He about Eiji’s age, though taller. He had shaggy blond hair and piercing green eyes. He wore plain clothes and looked incredibly tired and worse for wear. Yet he was still incredibly handsome, just as handsome as he had always been. Ash.  _ His  _ Ash.

 

“Eiji!” the green eyes grew into instant shock and terror, “What are you  _ doing _ here?”

 

“Ash,” was all Eiji could bring himself to say, his voice nearly a whisper. His heart was no longer beating fast, but instead felt as though it had stopped completely.

 

Ash shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. “I couldn’t--I didn’t want you to--”

 

“Ibe,” Eiji looked to his old friend, “Could I have the glove?”

 

“Alright,” Ibe managed, clearly in shock as well. Slowly, he took out the glove from his satchel and handed it to Eiji.

 

“Ash,” Eiji said slowly, walking to him. Ash instinctively took a few steps back.

 

“Eiji you need to get out of here. It’s not--”

 

“I’m trying to find someone,” Eiji told him, “Someone who I met only briefly yet felt a profound connection to. Someone who saved my life.”

 

“I--”

 

“So I’ve tried this glove on every young man in the kingdom in hopes of finding him.”

 

“Well, you would have recognized me if it was me, wouldn’t you have?” Ash gave an uncomfortable laugh.

 

“I thought so,” Eiji continued the slow steps towards him, “But now I’m not so sure.”

 

“Eiji.” The tears that had been slowly forming around Ash’s eyes fell down his face like a waterfall. Eiji stopped in front of him leaving about a foot of space between them.

 

“Would you please try on the glove?” he asked with the smallest smile, lifting up the glove to him.

 

Trembling, Ash lifted up his hand. It still shook, but Eiji was able to gently grip it and slowly slid 

on the glove.

 

It fit perfectly.

 

“Ash,” tears started forming in Eiji’s eyes as well as his smile grew bigger, “Of  _ course _ it was you. How could I have thought anything else?”

 

“But Ash, I--”

 

“This is ridiculous,” Golzine interjected, “You, a prince, can’t  _ possibly _ be with a  _ prostitute. _ Especially one as neurotic as him.”

 

“He’s right, Eiji,” Ash told him, “But more importantly it’s not safe here. You have to go back to your home kingdom... _ alone. _ Just forget about me.”

 

“But what about  _ you _ ?” Eiji shook his head.

 

“Don’t listen to him,” Golzine laughed, “He’s just a whore. Now that that’s out of the way, you can marry Yut Lung here without any of those irrational fantasies of yours.”

 

Ash’s eyes grew large. “No Eiji, don’t--”

 

“If he can’t marry Ash for being a prostitute or a whore,” Yut Lung said in a calm voice, “Then he can’t marry me either.”

 

“Excuse me?” Eiji asked.

 

“Ash and I were both Dino’s  _ pets _ ,” Yut Lung replied in the same robotic voice, “I may be of noble blood, but in the end there’s no real difference.”

 

Ash’s eyes grew wide in utter disbelief. “Youssis, why would you--”

 

“I’m  _ no one’s  _ second choice,” he huffed. Ash grinned.

 

Golzine grew even angrier. “Don’t listen to  _ either  _ of these lying--”

 

“Oh give it up, you lost,” Yut Lung rolled his eyes, “I’ve had enough of your stupid plot to murder him.”

 

Ibe gasped. “Yut Lung, what are you accusing--”

 

“He’s telling the truth,” Ash added quickly, “This whole thing, it was all a plot to kill Prince Eiji. I was forced to be in on it, but when I tried to stop it I was sent here as punishment. I got away to the ball to warn him, otherwise--”

 

“I would have poisoned him,” Yut Lung shrugged nonchalantly.

 

“--and I couldn’t let that happen.”

 

Golzine’s hands balled into fists. “I can’t believe this. I...I--”

 

Finally, he seemed to give up on his facade. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a blade. Within a moment, he charged straight for Ash and Eiji.

 

Of course, not the most intelligent move given there were several armed guards dutied to protect Prince Eiji with their life. It didn’t take more than a moment for them to kill him. The guard let out a scream and the children ran into a corner.

 

Slowly, Yut Lung and Ash went to stand over Golzine’s body where it fell. Their faces were expressionless. Yut Lung kicked his torso.

 

\---

 

Of course, a grand plot to assassinate Prince Eiji was going to be something that would have to be discussed in an emergency meeting regardless of how late it was getting. Not just a grand plot, but a grand  _ conspiracy _ that spanned from multiple kingdoms with innumerous spies down to people in courts that was much bigger than Eiji.

 

Yut Lung and Ash were also willing to share all of it in exchange for amnesty.

 

“How could this have gone under our noses for so long?” the queen asked, her face extremely troubled.

 

“It’s not just this kingdom,” Ash explained, “It’s  _ all _ of them. Racketeers, underworld criminals--they have a lot to gain from war and dishevel.”

 

“Still,” she shook her head.

 

“My brothers are also involved,” Yut Lung confessed offhandedly as he twirled a finger through his hair, “And they’re nobles.”

 

“And it’s not just war,” Ash frowned, “They are involved with a lot of illegal activity. The prince here can testify that they traffic  _ children _ .”

 

“Like us,” Yut Lung shrugged. Ash hung his head with a mix of shame and anger, like he had been slapped. Silence filled the room.

 

“Regardless,” Ash lifted his head back up after a few moments, “This whole thing had been a setup to kill Prince Eiji. They knew he would end their profitable war and there was no manipulating him to change his mind, so for years they had planned on assassinating him. They figured that having a public assassination while he tried to come as a peace offering would permanently damage relations between our two kingdoms forever.”

 

“And they figured his fiance from this kingdom breaking his heart and murdering him in cold blood would especially make us look heinous,” Yut Lung added.

 

Eiji’s blood turned cold. He hadn’t known  _ that _ much.

 

“Right, I tried to stop it and warn Eiji, but Yut Lung here caught me and I got sent to the brothel as punishment.”

 

“What?” Yut Lung’s blank expression turned to irritation, “No I didn’t.”

 

“You have amnesty now, Dino told me how you--”

 

“I wasn’t even at his estate that night,” Yut Lung crossed his arms.

 

“But--Well, whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Ash rubbed his temples in irritation, “ _ Regardless _ , I was caught and sent to the brothel. I managed to sneak out the night of the ball to warn Eiji. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to explain much, just that there was an attempt on his life.”

 

“Ei-chan, you knew about this?” Ibe asked.

 

“I’m sorry, it’s not that I didn’t trust you. I just decided it was best to not tell anyone,” he apologized, “But that’s why I  _ needed _ to find him. I needed more information.”

 

“Right,” Ash’s expression fell for the slightest moment.  “He just wanted information. Anyway, I got back a little too late and--”

 

The meeting went on and on, Ash and Yut Lung sharing until very late hours of the night all that they knew. Finally, however, the King and Queen announced that they would continue this in the morning and would in the meantime allow everyone to go to sleep. Security was heightened, to make sure there wasn’t any retaliation by conspirators and during the meeting, as soon as Yut Lung and Ash named names guards were immediately sent to apprehend them.

 

“Would you two like to stay here?” the Queen asked the two, “We have space.”

 

“We’d love to,” Yut Lung agreed on behalf of both of them before Ash could let out a word.

 

Slowly, they all tiredly flooded out of the royal meeting room and went their separate ways for the night. Eiji knew Ibe and his own people would want to speak to him, but he himself only wished to speak to one person.

 

“Ash!” he called out. He was standing in the middle of the hallway, clearly unsure of where he should go.

 

“Your highness,” Ash bowed.

 

“You know I don’t like that,” Eiji frowned.

 

“Ei-chan then?” he smirked.

 

“Just Eiji is fine,” he rolled his eyes.

 

“Are you doing alright?” his expression grew more serious, “I know this must be a lot for you to take in.”

 

“Same goes for you, doesn’t it?”

 

“I guess, but--”

 

“Let’s go to where we sat the other night,” Eiji gestured to him, “If you’re not too tired.”

 

“Alright.”

 

The two went together down the grand stairway, greeted by what seemed like twice as many guards, even more than there were at the ball. There was even a knight at the door to their little garden, but he happily opened it up for the prince and his guest.

 

It was a cloudless full moon night, making it much brighter than it had been before. Without saying anything, the two sat where they had previously.

 

“I’m sorry, Eiji,” Ash finally broke the silence, “I put you in danger and--”

 

“No!” Eiji shook his head, placing a hand on his arm, “You  _ saved _ my life. Twice.”

 

“Yes, but it was my whole plan that got you into this danger,” Ash insisted, “The whole thing about using Yut Lung? It was  _ me _ Eiji.”

 

“You were forced to,” Eiji insisted back, “And like you said, it’s a grand conspiracy through every kingdom. If you didn’t give them a plot, they would have just used someone else’s. I don’t blame you.”

 

“Eiji, I’ve done so many terrible things,” he shook his head, “You don’t have any idea the things--”

 

“Did you not hear me? I just said, I don’t blame you for things you were forced to do.”

 

“Well,” Ash frowned, looking up at the full moon, “Regardless, I’m glad you’re safe now. You were able to find me to get more information and now peace can continue and all of this racketeering underworld nonsense can finally end.”

 

“That reminds me!” Eiji stood up.

 

“Huh?” Ash looked down from the sky and at his face.

 

“At the meeting,” Eiji explained, “You said that I just wanted to find you for information.”

 

“Well...yes?”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“It wasn’t?” he raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t want to know more.”

 

“I did. But it wasn’t  _ just _ that.”

 

“Then…?”

 

“It was also to find the man I want to marry.”

 

Ash froze.

 

“I planned on asking you as soon as the glove fit but things got...hectic.”

 

“Eiji, I’m...even if you ignore what I’ve done, you’re a  _ prince _ . At the very least you can’t marry a prostitute. Imagine the outcry from your kingdom.”

 

“Don’t you understand that I don’t care?”

 

“You should.”

 

“Is it that you don’t want to? Because if you don’t feel the same way, then I understand. I wouldn’t want to pressure you.”

 

“Of course it’s not that,” Ash stood up as well, “I mean...I was and still am willing to give up everything for you. It’s just that... _ I’m  _ not--”

 

“Ash, don’t.”

 

“I’m not a noble, either.”

 

“That wasn’t ever a requirement.”

 

“Your kingdom still won’t accept me.”

 

“They will. Eventually.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“Well,  _ I  _ accept you.”

 

“You  _ are _ stubborn.”

 

“I am,” Eiji smiled.

 

“The worst,” Ash smiled back, crossing his arms.

 

“So then,” Eiji gripped his hands, “Will the incredibly dashing hero Ash give me the honor of his hand in marriage?”

 

“No,” he said with a coy smirk.

 

“No?” Eiji’s own smile fell.

 

“But Aslan will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! I imagined the story ending almost right after he put on the glove and that he'd propose then after Yut Lung snitched on Dino...but then I realized how many loose ends I still needed to close so it got far longer than expected. This story ended up being kind of a huge mess that I'm not really proud of, but thank you all for reading this far nonetheless. I'm going to write an epilogue, but I'm not sure exactly when it'll come out. Maybe in a few days, maybe not for a while. With this out of the way though, I'm going to work on my merman fic more.
> 
> Side note: if this chapter was in Ash's perspective Yut Lung's actions and reasons would have been narratively questioned a lot more. Nonetheless, I'll let you all decide his motives. 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr or twitter  
> https://wintergrew.tumblr.com/  
> https://twitter.com/wintergrew


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who made it this far!

“This is it,” he announced.

 

“Alright, stop the carriage then,” Eiji called out to the coachman. The coachman did as he was told, stopping his horses and then came around to open the carriage door to let the two out.

 

“Home sweet home,” Aslan said in a very airy voice.

 

It had been Eiji’s idea. Before they went back to his own kingdom, he wanted to make a stop at his new fiance’s hometown. He had objected. He said it would be a waste of time. Eiji could see in his eyes that it wouldn’t be so.

 

“It’s beautiful here,” Eiji said as he exited the carriage were it had stopped just a bit away from the seashore. He knew already that Aslan grew up by the sea, and that his family owned a tavern that housed many tourists, but he still wasn’t prepared for just  _ how _ beautiful it would be here.

 

“I guess it is,” Aslan replied, his voice making it clear that his mind was far away.

 

“Did you come to this beach often?” Eiji asked, trying to lighten the mood.

 

“When I was real little,” he smiled nostalgically, “My brother would take me here to play. Sometimes he’d sit right over there working--he did really nice woodwork--while I’d play in the water all day.”

 

“That sounds lovely.”

 

“It was,” Aslan sighed, taking a few steps in the sand, closer to the water, “But then he got sent away. To fight the war, you know. He never came back.” He looked up at Eiji who had begun to frown and gave him a reassuring smile. “But you know, for a while I still would sometimes sneak down and play in the water all by myself. I felt so proud and grown up.”

 

Of course, he wouldn’t mention that this was also the place he met the man who sold him to Dino.

 

“You lived with your father after he left, didn’t you?” Eiji tried to break the silence.

 

“And my stepmother. Until she died.”

 

Eiji’s eyes grew wide with regret again. “I’m sorry, I--”

 

“It’s fine, we weren’t that close,” Aslan laughed at his fiance’s expression, “I mean...she was nice enough and meant well, unlike my father, but she was...Well, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

“Do you want to go back to your old home?” Eiji asked, “Or would it bring back too many bad memories?”

 

Aslan didn’t answer immediately. He merely stared out at the horizon, in what seemed to be an incredibly deep contemplation.

 

It was very odd being back. He certainly never thought he would return, and for a while he thought he didn’t want to. Too many horrible memories, too many reminders of his past mistakes. With Griff gone, there was nothing for him anymore.

 

Yet he didn’t feel that way at this very moment. Perhaps because everything worked out? Perhaps because he had finally made peace with his mother and brother? He, of course, would never look back fondly on the bad memories he made here...and remembering what he lost with his short childhood with Griff, easily the best part of his life, was painful as well.

 

Perhaps it was that he made peace. He would finally be able to move on.

 

“Let’s,” he finally responded.

 

Eiji offered to have the carriage drive them to his old home, but he refused. Afterall, it wasn’t far and it was a path he would run up and down frequently as a young child. Eiji smiled and took his hand, allowing the other to lead them. Even after so many years, Aslan still knew the way like the back of his hand.

 

The thing that truly worried him and felt like rocks in the bottom of his stomach was the potential of seeing his father again. He wasn’t a nice man by any means, but would he reject him after all these years? Or would he welcome him with open arms? If so, would it only because he was to be married to a crown prince?

 

All of this left his mind immediately as both the old tavern and cottage he lived in with Griff came into view.

 

The two buildings were shells of their former selves. He could tell from a distance that a few windows were shattered. The wood sides of the building was splintering, and the paint that he remembered Griff and his father applying to the sides had heavily chipped off. The gardens on their land were lifeless, with only brown grass scorched by the hot summer sun. All of the vegetables and flowers Jennifer and Griff had planted were gone. Everything about this land and the buildings on them were completely run down.

 

“Is this really it?” Eiji asked.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, “But it...It wasn’t like this before.” Eiji grasped his hand. The two looked at each other for a few moments before rushing towards the former tavern.

 

Once they approached, they looked inside a broken window, and it was clear the inside was just as run down as the outside. It was clearly looted, with broken plates on the floor, rotting food, broken chairs had fallen to the floor, and even a rat running about.

 

“Maybe your father moved away,” Eiji offered.

 

“I’m not sure,” he replied emotionlessly. After a moment of staring through the window he looked to his fiance. “Let’s go back.”

 

“You don’t want to stop by your old cottage?” Eiji’s eyes widened.

 

“No, it’s--”

 

“Hey, what are you two doing here? This is private property!” a gruff, angry voice called out to them. The young couple turned around, and saw it was an older man with a beard.

 

Not Aslan’s father. Yet still a man he recognized.

 

“Hey, you were a friend of my father’s,” Aslan replied, “What’s going on here?”

 

“Your father?” the man grew more irritated, “I don’t know what you’re--” Suddenly, as he looked directly into Aslan’s green eyes, he stopped in his tracks as if he saw a ghost. “Can’t be. You aren’t Jim’s boy, are ya?”

 

“I am,” Aslan shrugged, “Long time, no see.”

 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he shook his head.

 

“Well I’m not,” he smirked, sardonically patting his solid torso to prove it.

 

“Where you been all these years, kid?”

 

“Around. Involved with the underworld for a while. Now I’m engaged to a prince, here.”

 

“A prince? You--” he looked to Eiji.

 

“Hello, I’m Prince Eiji,” Eiji bowed formally, “What he says is true. We were hoping to visit his childhood home, but came upon it...like this.”

 

Once again, the man looked as though he had seen a ghost. A second one.

 

“Y-You’re highness,” he stammered, bowing back.

 

“Enough of that,” Aslan shook his head, “I just need to know. Where is my father?”

 

The man straightened up like a pole. 

 

“Well?” Aslan pressed.

 

The man swallowed. Aslan immediately knew his demeanor wasn’t a good sign.

 

“He died a handful of years ago,” he shook his head mournfully.

 

The man’s words hit Aslan like a brick. All his worrying about the life and safety of so many of his family, he never stopped to consider that something could happen to his father. It was almost as if the man wasn’t  _ able _ to die. Afterall, he outlived Griff and three of his former wives, how could he himself just up and die? 

 

Yet at the same time, he couldn’t really tell how he felt. Sad? Not really, or at least not in the normal sense of the word. Perhaps disappointed? That he could never have closure, never know what could have been. He hadn’t been expecting to make amends with his father--he really didn’t think he deserved it, but it was still odd knowing that all those years ago was... _ it _ .

 

“I see,” was all Aslan could reply.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Eiji gripped his hand tightly, “I wouldn’t have--”

 

“It’s fine,” he bit his lip, “We weren’t exactly...close.” 

 

“Still,” Eiji flashed his large, sympathetic eyes at him.

 

“I guess that’s why the place looks like this,” Aslan gestured towards the tavern to his old neighbor, “Who owns it now?”

 

“Well, after all these years we were just about to rip the buildings down and sell the land,” he answered, “Though technically...you do.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“If you’re marrying a prince here, do you even  _ want  _ it? Don’t you have all those castles and all?”

 

“N--”

 

“Yes,” Eiji interrupted.

 

“Alright then,” he shrugged, “Woulda liked to make a pretty penny off it...but glad you’re alive I guess.”

 

\---

 

 “This one was your actual home?” Eiji asked.

 

“Technically both were,” Aslan answered, “At different points. But this one was where I lived in with my brother.”

 

The cottage, having less suspected valuables, was less looted and run down than the old tavern, but it was still very clear the moment they entered that no one had touched the place in years. It was dusty, it was dirty, and the air felt thick and musty. Things were also moved around, different from how Griff and him had them. Afterall, boarders lived here for a while.

 

Still, it felt like  _ home.  _ A feeling Aslan almost forgot existed, perhaps until he met Eiji. 

 

“It’s cute,” Eiji commented. Coming from most aristocracy, Aslan would have believed it was a backhanded compliment, yet he knew coming from Eiji that his feelings were genuine.

 

“There isn’t much down here. Let’s go upstairs,” Aslan smiled, taking his hand.

 

The little attic bedroom was even more changed from how it had once been than the downstairs. The two small beds he and his brother once slept in were gone--replaced by one big bed for the married couple. All of his toys and both of their clothes were gone. Almost everything that once made this room theirs...gone. Except for--

 

“I can just imagine you as a child playing here,” Eiji cut off his train of thought as he looked around the room, “It’s like a fairytale cottage.”

 

“Says someone who lives in a fairytale  _ castle _ ,” Aslan laughed.

 

“ _ Our _ castle,” Eiji reminded him.

 

“Alright,” Aslan replied. The idea of him becoming royalty and living in a castle still felt incredibly strange to him. “Though you know...it’s kind of funny. My brother used to always read me fairytales in this room, back in the day. When he moved away, he declared me prince of the family, and that this was my castle...kind of ironic, isn’t it?”

 

“To the war?”

 

“Yeah,” shrugged, wiping some dust off the window sill, “It was just to comfort me, but he said that he was my valiant knight protecting me, his prince. He’d send me letters talking about his grand conquests for my sake.”

 

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Eiji sat upon the bed.

 

“What do you mean?” he raised a blond eyebrow.

 

“Well, this is your land in your home kingdom, isn’t it?” Eiji shrugged, “It’s in a beautiful location. Why don’t we make this our summer palace?”

 

“Are you crazy?”

 

“How is it crazy?” he tilted his head and flashed puppy dog eyes. “I think as long as we don’t  _ officially _ name it our summer palace no one in this kingdom would mind. Shorter and any other people we need can live in the tavern. We don’t  _ need _ that many people out here, anyway, do we?”

 

“That’s--”

 

“Would Shorter not like that?” Eiji asked, “You said he liked to travel.”

 

Shorter and his sister, Nadia, were coming with them to Eiji’s kingdom. Eiji had come up with the idea to appoint the Wong family as their official royal chefs. He also extended an offer to allow other friends of Ash’s to come with them, but Alex decided to stay behind for his own reasons while Bones and Kong declined due to their newfound appointments as their own kingdom’s jesters. 

 

“He would, but--”

 

“Maybe even Yut Lung could come alone.”

 

“He’s really not a good person,” Aslan frowned, “I don’t get why you don’t understand that he’s just using us.”

 

“Alright, he doesn’t have to, then,” Eiji shrugged as he stood up and walked forward. He gripped his fiance’s hands tightly and looked him lovingly in the eyes...in a way Aslan quickly came to realize was his way of trying to flash puppy dog eyes to get his way.

 

“You really like this place, don’t you?” Aslan shook his head with a laugh. Even though he could see right through Eiji, he still found himself falling for it. 

 

“I do,” he grinned.

 

“You haven’t even seen the main village itself yet,” the other coyly reminded him, “You might hate it.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Aslan poked him on the nose, “Your stubborn reputation is making more and more sense.”

 

Eiji frowned. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked. 

 

“I’m still deciding.”

 

Eiji’s face fell as he let go of his fiance’s hands. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t mean to be overly pushy. With all you’ve been through, I don’t want to come across as forcing you into things you are not comfortable with. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a short time and we’re not married yet, so if you want to at any point--”

 

Aslan burst into laughter.

 

“What’s so funny?” Eiji tilted his head.

 

“You are,” he wiped a tear from his eye.

 

“Excuse me? I--”

 

Aslan kissed him.

 

“Aslan, I--” Eiji blushed, too flustered to form a proper response.

 

“I love you, but...how about we think about this  _ after _ the big royal wedding we’re supposed to be planning? Okay?” 

 

“You’re right,” Eiji blinked, “I almost forgot about that.”

 

“Of course you did,” Aslan laughed before kissing him again. “In the meantime, why don’t I show you around the village? Confirm for yourself whether or not you like it here?”

 

“Alright,” Eiji smiled.

 

With that, Eiji went first, heading down the stairs to the first floor. Aslan moved to follow him, but paused to look at the room one more time.

 

Most of the room was completely changed--the bed, the furniture, his belongings that were always scattered everywhere. Even the walls were repainted a different color since the time he lived here so long ago. Except for one thing. His mother’s chest.

 

He had left it here intentionally, all those years ago when his father told him to collect his things. It was all he had of her, but he found it useless at the time. Afterall, at the time he believed she abandoned him. That she never loved him.

 

Yet now he knew differently. She had  _ always _ been there.

 

He walked over to the trunk and placed his hand on it. It was dusty, but still in the same condition it always had been.

 

“Thank you,” he said to it.

 

“Aslan, are you coming?” Eiji called from downstairs.

 

Perhaps Griff had been right all those years ago. Perhaps fairytales were important. 

 

“Be right there!”

 

More than that, perhaps sometimes they even came true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a wedding epilogue or anything—that never really even crossed my mind as a possibility and I like endings somewhat open. I wanted it to end where it started, in Ash's old home.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments/etc are greatly appreciated!!! Constructive criticism is also always welcome!


End file.
